


Red Lotus •••• 紅蓮

by HadenXCharm



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Antisocial!Ichigo, Betrayal, Blackmail, Coercion, College, Crushes, Falling In Love, First Time in Love, Happy Ending, Infidelity, Lots of (Red Lotus - Love) Symbolism, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Up, PickupArtist!Renji, Unconventional Friendship, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2018-11-13 00:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 135,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11173284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadenXCharm/pseuds/HadenXCharm
Summary: Because Ichigo’s life always has to be as dramatic as possible, it would make sense that his first crush is on such a notorious Casanova. Despite the warnings of his friends, that dramatic life seems determined to bring them together. College is certainly about to become a whole lot more interesting.





	1. Ichigo Has A Problem

_Where are you, cherry red?_

_. . ._

 

Ichigo stared incredulously at the guy who’d wandered in to class five minutes before the designated starting time – it was the first day of the semester, and Ichigo apparently wasn’t the only person to notice the guy’s entrance, considering his rather… _unconventional_ appearance. Some might even call it unforgettable.

His expression immediately soured at the sight of him. Ah god damnit. Not this guy. What the fuck was he doing in this class?

Ichigo had actually arrived there much earlier and had only decided to get up a few minutes ago to go buy a water from the vending machine at the end of the hall – he'd then had the misfortune of walking back into class to the horrible surprise of seeing _him_ standing there like an idiot, staring around.

Giving a discreet glance around the small auditorium, he didn’t see any open seats left. Maybe – _hopefully –_ Rooster-head had come to the wrong room. One hand behind his back, Ichigo crossed his fingers and watched as the redhead scanned the room with a blatant ‘aw-shit’ expression starting to cross his face when he didn’t see any empty chairs.

_‘Please, please, please,’_ Ichigo chanted inwardly, cringing when big-dumb-and-ugly finally looked up to the corner where Ichigo had been sitting before, and… stopped. Peeking an eye up, his stomach dropped as he saw the guy perk up, spiky ponytail jumping around as he headed up the steps. Ichigo, dismayed, noticed that there were still two empty seats next to his own.

Fighting the urge to slap his hand to his forehead, Ichigo trudged up the steps after him and glared at everything. Why is it always him, huh? _Why_ had he had to pick a spot way up in the back in the corner like a hermit?! Now he was stuck here, near this- this _jerk_ _._ Ugh. You know what, he’s not even surprised. Of _course_ this would happen.

Ichigo watched as the guy sat down in the corner seat with a relieved groan and slung his backpack under the table, and again Ichigo pondered why the fuck he was in this class.

Although he was notoriously bad with names, he remembered this guy all right. Abarai Renji.

He’d been nothing but a source of endless frustration ever since Ichigo had first met him. It could have something to do with the little insignificant fact that oh, he was a _huge asshole._

Ichigo had first seen him early last year with a bunch of dudes from the frat, and had decided it was pretty clear that he was just another douche in remedial classes who was there to party on his parent’s money.

He could remember a brief conversation they’d had last year. Well, saying it that way made it seem like the memory was fuzzy, and it really wasn’t. Seeing that guy’s stupid face and tacky clothes and loud hair brought it all back. It had been during the start-of-semester floor welcoming party in one of the dorm buildings. Keigo had been dragging Ichigo around with him to meet people and have fun, and that’s when it had happened.

Who knows – maybe Renji had been shoved, maybe he’d already been acting rowdy in the first place, or had just been really baked – it didn’t matter which. The fact was he’d knocked into Ichigo and made him spill his drink all over his legs.

Then of course, Ichigo’d had a few choice words: “God damnit, what is your problem!” – and then, ever the hot-head, he’d spun around and kicked Renji in the back, because it had been bad enough that he’d been hauled to this stupid party to ‘make friends’ and now he had wet feet on top of it! So yeah, he’d kicked him in the back, and he still didn’t feel bad about it because Renji hadn’t even bothered turning around to apologize. He’d still been laughing with his buddies, doing whatever, not even paying attention – the asshole.

Well, a kick to the spine had obviously gotten his attention real fast, and at that point he’d turned towards him, his jovial expression having gone aggressive, and Ichigo had been left to suddenly realize how much taller he was up close, and also how... big and muscled he was – and admittedly, shit, he was kind of hot.

“Son of a bitch, man,” he’d snapped, “Watch what you’re doing, I almost broke this!” _This_ had been a very expensive Huawei with gold aluminum plating, solidifying Ichigo’s opinion of him as an utter douche. So, because he was a little shit and still really mad and not fucking scared of people who were bigger than him, he’d slapped it out of his hand.

Long story short, they’d had to be dragged apart, the phone had been miraculously unharmed, Keigo had been hysterical, and Ichigo, unsurprisingly, hadn’t made any friends.

He hadn’t learned the guy’s name until later. Apparently Rukia had heard about the incident, and informed him of Renji’s identity and that he had no recollection of the argument or an opinion of him past ‘kid’s alright.’

Not that Ichigo had cared whether Renji thought he was alright or not.

So yeah, he knew who Renji was. He’d gotten a bad first impression, and now that he had it, it’d have to be pried from his cold dead hands. He didn’t care how cool everyone thought Renji was; the guy was an asshole and an idiot. Ichigo was endlessly astounded that they even attended the same college and that the guy had even graduated high school – let alone that he somehow kept from dropping out currently.

Well, actually, Ichigo had already had to confront his maybe unfairly harsh opinion of Renji, because as it happened, the next semester following that little incident at the floor party, Ichigo had been on the top floor of one of the science buildings where he’d been taking an advanced science, and he’d seen Renji coming out of one of the math lecture halls – which, _holy shit._

They also apparently shared this humanities class – all of which meant Renji was _not_ an idiot. Still an asshole, but not an idiot. Damnit. Being wrong sucked.

Having accepted his fate, Ichigo finished his walk to the gallows and sat one seat down from Renji where his things were still waiting. Renji didn’t so much as blink at him as he passed, which made Ichigo frown.

It wasn’t like he was looking to start a fight or that he _wanted_ Renji to be a jerk some more, but that had been kind of… _disappointing._ He’d been half-expecting some sort of reaction. Did Renji not recognize him?

When he sat, Renji did look up at him, but Ichigo just stared forward and exhaled heavily through his nose, trying for all the world to project ‘fuck-off’ vibes. All too effective, he could see out of his periphery that Renji didn’t give him more than a cursory glance. From that non-response, Ichigo assumed that Renji probably didn’t even remember him, which meant hey, problem solved.

About a minute and a half before class time, a girl came up and sat in the empty spot between them, and, more unhappy about this than he’d care to admit, Ichigo viciously sharpened a pencil and tried not to crush his weak recycled-plastic water bottle in his hand.

Luckily, the professor then came in and began the usual syllabus-rundown, and Ichigo was able to stop brooding for the time being. Still, he couldn’t keep from occasionally hearing Renji shift in his chair or the sound of him writing something down, and it would set his teeth on edge all over again.

Okay, so problem not solved.

Over the next couple weeks, as if in some exercise in stubbornness and maybe a bit of masochism, Ichigo continued to sit in that same spot, even though he always arrived early enough that he had other options. The thing was, as if by sheer bullheaded spite, Renji sat in the same corner chair too, and this was war now. Ichigo wasn’t fucking changing seats, because his mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’d been like four classes now, and not once had Renji even acknowledged him or shown signs of cracking. In fact, sometimes he even had the nerve to flirt with the girl who sat between them before classes and during break, who, to Ichigo’s great dismay, he now noticed was kind of pretty, and also very receptive to Renji’s teasing – he wasn’t _jealous,_ he just felt bad for her!

Alright, so it might bother him a little, but what about Renji _didn’t_ bother him? He figured he’d just have to suck it up for the rest of the semester. Ichigo did his best to ignore everyone, Renji especially, which was kind of impossible during group exercises or class discussions. The fucker always eagerly participated, which made ignoring him really hard, and in those cases, Ichigo instead just watched him suspiciously. It drove him a little insane that he’d been wrong about Renji being dumb, because he wasn’t dumb at all, _fuck,_ he wasn’t. Ichigo was maybe, admittedly, sort of a little _impressed_ actually – so every time he asked a good question or said something deep about the piece of literature they’d been assigned, Ichigo fucking glared at him, scrutinized him, watched him, because it pissed him off.

If he were honest, he might watch Renji more than was strictly normal. He’d look over at him occasionally during lecture to see him chewing on his tongue and squinting at the board, and of course, sometimes – only sometimes, mind you, not _every_ time – he glanced over there when Renji stretched his arms above his head, leaned back in his chair, and showed off his stomach.

Which he was currently doing, _again_ … Ugh _._

Ichigo fought the urge to put his head on the desk. He needed help.

At lunchtime in an on-campus cafe, Ichigo mentioned him to Rukia, a good friend, in annoyance and half in hopes of learning more about him. He knew that she knew Renji; she’d been the one to tell him the guy's name, after all.

What with the way she held her tuna-wrap with a napkin protecting her hand, one might suspect that she ate really delicately, like a bird, but nope. Ichigo still was surprised by her chipmunk cheeks every single time they came to the campus cafe, not to mention how well she could articulate with her mouth that full.

After he raised the subject, she told him that yeah, Renji had been a friend of hers since childhood.

“What?” Ichigo’s hot pretzel sat untouched on its wax paper. Rukia’s eyes seemed to shutter, her usual cheerfulness having fled her face, and the reason was clear when her next statement came out more quietly.

“We grew apart.”

“What did he do? I mean, what caused it?” Ichigo prompted, maybe insensitively, seeing as she obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but it was just… he really wanted to know.

“Well,” she sighed, “My brother adopted me when we were fifteen, and after that we just…” She shook her head and went quiet for a long time. “I don’t know.”

Suddenly feeling like kind of a shitty person, Ichigo wondered if they’d been living in the same kid’s home, meaning that Renji was an orphan like Rukia too, which by extension meant, _no,_ he _wasn’t_ a rich asshole – in fact, he’d probably worked really hard to go to school here.

The thought that Renji might have never found a family struck him with a sudden jolt. Blinking, a bit aghast, Ichigo inferred, “He didn’t get adopted?...”

“No,” Rukia replied rather shortly, then smiled, her eyes going far away, and Ichigo felt even worse for bringing it up. “He’s a very hard worker. He’s diligent and very smart," she said, "brave, loving – everything someone would want in a son.” Her smile went wry then, directed down at her tray. “But he has a temper – he especially did at that age. And there’s his hair,” she mused, and Ichigo swallowed, thinking of himself at fifteen.

“No one gave him a chance. It’s so hard for troubled kids to get adopted, especially the older ones – and not many people want to take in a teenager with anything that looks like a rebellious streak.”

Ichigo understood that well enough. In fact, he understood that better than most. “Nah, I get it,” he muttered knowingly, that sick feeling in his gut not easing in the slightest. It had been hard enough for him, feeling angry, misunderstood, and bullied; at least he’d still had his dad and sisters. Renji had no family. He’d probably grown up feeling all alone. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, huh?”

She pointed at him with a half-nod. “Exactly.”

“…” Ichigo was quiet for a while in order to let the topic die naturally, since it was clear Rukia didn’t like talking about it and there was only so long he could make her do so. If he thought about it, she’d always been reluctant to talk about the times before her purportedly-wonderful brother had adopted her. Apparently she’d had a hard life and didn’t like remembering it, and maybe Renji was why. Although Ichigo was almost unbearably curious, instead of prying any further he shut his mouth and pulled his pretzel apart. It was cold now. He didn’t want to eat it.

Finally, after Ichigo had sat staring at his food miserably for a few quiet minutes, Rukia sighed through her nose and went on, almost apologetically. “I’ve painted him in a bad light.” Ichigo peeked one eye up. “He’s actually very kind.”

Renji, kind? _That jerk, kind?_ Ichigo stuffed his mouth full of soft pretzel and then disagreed flatly, “I don’t see it.”

“You see his muscles, that’s for sure,” Rukia mumbled under her breath with her eyes averted, sipping her juice calmly and making a slurping noise.

“W-what?!” He jolted back in his seat. Staring at Rukia incredulously, he sputtered, “Just what are you implying?!”

“I wonder.”

Ichigo folded his arms and scowled petulantly.

Whatever, she didn’t know anything.

The next week, the pretty girl who usually sat between them didn’t show up. She’d usually arrive right before Renji did, but today she wasn’t there, and Ichigo found himself gripping the table nervously as Renji came up the stairs and then stopped there for a moment to glance at the empty chairs – although Ichigo couldn’t be positive, since he was fiercely staring forward. Was Renji going to-…? No, he didn’t care if he did, he could do what he wanted, it’s not like it mattered to Ichigo.

Renji shifted where he stood, dragging the moment out, and Ichigo grit his teeth hard.

… Something told him he was in trouble. Maybe it was the way his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

In a deep warm voice, Renji casually asked, “Yo, mind if I sit here?” Ichigo glanced up, inwardly alarmed at being directly addressed. God, he sure hoped it didn’t show on his face. After a beat of Ichigo's blank-faced silence, Renji nodded his head at the chair directly next to Ichigo, the one the girl usually sat in to divide them.

“Can see the board easier,” he added in explanation, taking his yellow one-strap backpack off and plopping it on the table.

“Yeah, go for it,” Ichigo replied robotically, and sat stiffly as Renji pulled out the rolling chair next to him and threw himself down in it heavily, sending a whiff of hair product and pine soap his way.

_'Fuck,'_ Ichigo thought. He was definitely in trouble.

They were quiet for a while then, because Renji didn’t say anything else, and Ichigo sure as hell wasn’t going to initiate conversation. The next few minutes that went by were incredibly tense, at least on Ichigo's end; even breathing was an effort. Class eventually began, but it didn’t help. He remained outwardly aloof as always, his everyday scowl set into his face like cement, but inside he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Why had this happened out of the blue like this? Crap, had it been Rukia? Right after he'd told her about Renji, this just _happened_ coincidentally?... Ah god, had Rukia said something to him? She hadn't told him about the muscles thing, had she? _Fuck, fuck-fuck, shit_ . . . Wait, no, no, that couldn’t be right, Rukia had said that they didn’t really talk anymore – and she wouldn't maliciously embarrass him on purpose like that anyway. Coincidence, it must be just a weird unfortunate coincidence. That was it then, Ichigo just had to get through today, he just had to get through  _one day_ of the soap smell and the stretching and the deep voice being within such close proximity.

Ichigo had a hand up next to his face to block his eye on Renji’s side, but he frequently peered through his fingers to watch him taking notes. He kept telling himself to knock it off, but he couldn't help it. This was just so fucking weird – Renji was sitting by him. Why did such wacky shit happen to him all the time?

Admittedly – and he hadn't expected to feel like this at all – he felt a little excited. Wow, should he say something? Would _Renji_ say something?

As if to drive him insane, Renji didn’t say a goddamn thing or so much as _look_ at him, completely absorbed by the teacher’s words, and although Ichigo didn’t speak either, by contrast, he was hopelessly distracted for the entire first half of class.

He hoped the girl would show up next class. Before, Ichigo had been annoyed by the way Renji would talk to her and not him, and also, to be honest, by the way she’d pervaded his view, but now he saw that the barrier she created had been his only hope at properly taking notes, because without her there he couldn’t stop fucking staring at Renji and the profile of his face and the way his chest popped out of his v-neck.

Really though, the worst part was the stretching, because he did it entirely too much, and now he was right next to Ichigo, _right there._ God damnit, he was doing it again, and Ichigo could hear the breath seeping out of his chest as he pressed his arms up, he could see his muscles contorting, the fabric of his shirt dipping and wrinkling over the bumps of his hard stomach, he could see the bare patch of skin where his pants hung too low and his top rode up, and yeah, that was his natural hair color, all right.

After the third stretch of the day, Ichigo put his hand to his forehead and stared at his notebook pitifully. Shit. He was in _serious_ trouble.

_‘Why me?’_ he thought grumpily.

Finally, when it was time to pack up, Ichigo despondently stacked his supplies and wondered how his life had gone so wrong. Next to him, Renji stood, kicked his chair in, and swung his backpack over his shoulder. “Cool glasses,” he noted, and Ichigo’s head snapped up just in time to catch a blazing grin before Renji stomped down the steps in his carelessly-laced steel-toed boots.

Ichigo put his hand to the bridge of his nose and swallowed, just staring after him for a minute; he hadn’t even realized that he was still wearing his pink reading frames. He took them off and scowled, heart beating wildly as he grabbed his stuff.

… Yeah, okay, Rukia might have been onto something with that muscles thing.

 

. . . 

_Cherry red, my cherry red._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Me again.
> 
> I'll be honest: this one took me a lot of work. I've spent almost a year on this fic and at some points I thought I might never complete it. I even stopped along the way a few times to try and give myself a break, and worked on other 'short' pieces like Premature/Overdue and Ichigo's Cold, but this piece has been my big project. That being said, I hope the quality is on par with the amount of time and effort that was put in.
> 
> At last I'm finally ready to share this one with you! Please, please let me know what you think. I can't tell you how much I value your kind words and your appreciation. Even a small note really gives me a lot of drive. I know it takes up time and it can be a hassle, but please consider leaving a comment. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for your readership, please enjoy 'Red Lotus.'


	2. Ichigo Investigates

_Baby, just open your eyes to see, he's growing from inside me, and I just don't know what I can do – I thought I cut him at the root._

_. . ._

 

Ichigo did some digging – and by digging, he meant he’d asked Inoue and gotten answers immediately – and it turned out that Renji was an engineering student here on a scholarship. Very underprivileged, but one of the top students in his program. And he was nice, _very very nice,_ Inoue had insisted several times throughout her enthusiastic and meandering response.

 _‘Nice, my eye,’_ Ichigo thought, but didn’t say as much to her. He didn’t know why everyone thought Renji was so great; the guy slept around copiously, partied, was noisy and annoying, and had noisy annoying friends. His personality grated against Ichigo's every nerve, and yet somehow Renji was _beloved_ by seemingly everybody. He was the kind of person Ichigo hated.

The really awful thing about it was that Ichigo kept seeing Renji around now – which admittedly might have something to do with the fact that Ichigo deliberately looked for him. It wasn’t exactly hard, if one paid attention, to pick Renji out of a crowd, what with his loud bright… _everything._

Today for example, Ichigo spotted him in the library. He’d just walked in minding his own business, and there he was, and Ichigo had to take a moment to hold in a scream, because it felt like Renji was popping up everywhere. He couldn’t fucking escape. Well… if he were honest, the way he seemed to be everywhere Ichigo went was sort of convenient, considering that he’d begun to partake in a bit of passive observation – which was purely scientific in nature, of course.

Finding him here though had been particularly unexpected.

Having realized that coming to a dead stop in the middle of the library to gawk was socially unacceptable, Ichigo came back to himself with a jolt and tried to ignore what he’d seen. Shit, Renji was here in the library. What was he doing here?

Another discrete glance confirmed his suspicions. Renji was at a four-person table near the middle of the room, a pencil in his mouth. He was sitting alone, and was... get this, _studying._ Ichigo was still kind of bitter at being wrong about Renji being stupid, so seeing him there with his book made him irrationally mad.

But also… damningly, horribly, insatiably curious. Yeah, that’s what he’ll call it for now.

Ichigo crossed the room more slowly than was strictly necessary, passing the computer stations and the study tables, finally coming to the far side and stopping. Remembering what he was actually supposed to be doing, he clicked a button on the automated bookshelves so that he could get a newer version of his textbook to compare the two. In the meantime, as the shelves slowly rearranged and separated, he watched Renji – ahem, _observed._

He still wasn’t on board with those _‘kind’_ and _‘_ _nice’_ evaluations he’d received from the women in his life, but he could admit that Renji was definitely a people person. He might’ve been aggressive towards Ichigo at that party, but otherwise, to everyone else, he was quite sociable. Even now, while trying to study, Renji was very friendly, frequently pulled out of his reading by passersby who would call out to him or slap his shoulder. He seemed to know nearly everyone, and nearly every one of them seemed close enough with him to personally greet him upon sight, quite enthusiastically – too much so for a library-setting in fact. Stupid fratboys.

However, what was interesting was that despite the many loud and boisterous interruptions, not to mention the numerous invitations to quote ‘get outta’ here,’ Renji would always apologetically brush them off and return to his work, studying with dedication.

So, because Ichigo was a masochist, after ten minutes among the bookshelves and pretending to look for his book – which entailed pulling out volumes he didn’t need, flipping through them, and then shoving them back in the wrong spots – he grabbed the book he actually needed and sat near Renji in the library.

Well, near was a stretch. He chose an armchair along the wall, which was two empty tables away from Renji’s, and was at a good vantage point. Ichigo hid behind his textbook and squirmed. Occasionally, he peeked over the text, trying desperately not to feel like he was spying, and soon he noticed that, over the sound of the library receipt printer, if he listened closely, he could hear Renji quietly reading aloud, stumbling frequently despite his very slow pace.

Confused, Ichigo lowered his book slightly to hear and see better. His theory of Renji being an idiot had been previously disproven, so this conflicting data was a bit perturbing. Since assuming that he was a stupid jerk, Ichigo had discovered that Renji was in the advanced classes, right? … So why was he reading like that?

Ichigo watched more, puzzled as Renji repeated the same line several times and then wrote it. Sometimes he sighed and leaned closer to his book, using his finger as a guide. Ichigo could hear him quite clearly now, and he wasn’t a very good reader, but despite his many mistakes, he pushed on without getting frustrated.

He also noticed that Renji had reading glasses too, dark green ones, the cheap, generic, pharmacy-issue frames. Renji would sometimes push them up and squint, or take them off and blink and rub his eyes – Ichigo felt funny inside, watching him. He let his feet fidget and wondered why Renji didn’t wear them in class.

Eventually, Renji stretched again – he did that a lot – and this time, he yawned, revealing that almost every tooth had a dark filling. Ichigo wouldn’t have realized, since he had such a nice smile-

He suddenly straightened. Shit, no. Annoying, cocky, smug smile.

Renji rubbed his eyes and smacked his lips, and Ichigo shut his book with a hard _thump_ _,_ startling several nearby students. _Shit, what was he doing?_

He hurriedly got up and checked out his book, then went home. This was ridiculous. He was staring at a guy in a library for literally no reason other than… than what? What the hell was he doing?

Suddenly, he became alarmingly aware that although he complained frequently that his life was altogether too dramatic and that the worst things always happened to him, _why him,_ actually, the drama was usually completely self-created. He had a way of inadvertently steering himself straight into trouble that would’ve been otherwise easily avoidable. Shit, he was doing it again right now, wasn’t he? He was deliberately watching, asking about, and borderline _following_ a guy he should be trying to avoid.

Worst of all was that Ichigo was just as taken in, just as dazzled, just as _charmed_ by his perfect, straight-toothed, bright-eyed smile as everybody else was.

This was a troubling development.

He didn’t even like the guy; in point of fact, he disliked him a great deal. He was good looking, sure, but Ichigo had never been one to think that good looks could overpower a rotten personality – although sometimes he was sure that the only things that kept him from _killing_ Grimmjow were his baby blues and that stupidly endearing ducktail haircut.

But no, _not_ this time! Kurosaki Ichigo wasn’t swayed by a pretty face! Or a manly, rugged, handsome one either…

Ichigo hit his head on his book several times and then splashed himself with water for good measure.

Well so what if he was really cute and went to the goddamn library like somebody who took their academics seriously? Was that supposed to be attractive or something?! Ichigo refused to see what was so great about him – Renji might be hot and smart, but he was still a jerk!

As if the universe was out to spite him, that evening he saw Renji in the parking lot chasing a limping stray dog, coaxing it into his arms, and then carrying it to his truck. Ichigo stubbornly ignored the incident as a fluke until it became impossible not to notice that the dog thing wasn’t an isolated case. Renji did volunteer work around campus all the time, he sometimes gave tours to high school students, and was courteous and eager to learn in class – hell, he even recycled. 

He was the kind of person Ichigo loved. He was fucking  _weak_ for it.

Now Ichigo hated to eat crow. He hated to be proven wrong after taking a strong stance against something, and it took him a long time to come to terms with his dislike for Renji; at this point, it seemed completely irrational and solely generated out of spite.

In fact, if he were honest with himself, he sort of… _liked_ the guy. His loud rude personality seemed to case what must be the biggest kindest heart imaginable. That shouldn’t be possible when he was such an asshole… but well, maybe he wasn’t an ass at all.

Why had he even thought he was a dick in the first place – because he’d embarrassed him at that party? Ichigo didn’t think of himself as an ass normally, but he still got heated from time to time when some stranger got in his face over an accident, and that’s what he’d done to Renji. Really, what had he expected him to do? It was stupid, looking back on it now, a dumb argument. Maybe that’s all it had been was a misunderstanding.

After accepting that he had prejudged Renji and had been horribly dreadfully _wrong_ – Renji was sexy, smart, _and_ nice, _very very nice_ – Ichigo settled into total bitterness. This sucked balls.

Fuck. Stupid Renji. Him and his pan-pride shirt. Him and his expensive Chinese phone and his _dumb_ oddly sexy sense of fashion and his habits of chain-smoking behind the cafeteria and then doing neighborhood cleanup and raising money for the homeless – all the while being completely and effortlessly gorgeous. Him and the way he threw Ichigo into a constant state of cognitive dissonance with his stupid conflicting personality traits – just _fuck_ him.

“I think you’d _like_ ta’ fuck’m’ is the problem,” commented Grimmjow, who was currently smoking next to the open window, cigarette held over the sill, and who had obviously somehow picked up on his current dilemma, probably because Ichigo mumbled when he was really mad.

Grimmjow was Ichigo’s roommate and retired archenemy. They had a bit of a violent history. Long story made really short, after they’d had this insane fight, Grimmjow had stalked Ichigo for about a month and tried to get a rematch several times. Ichigo had been entirely unconcerned with him, which had further pissed Grimmjow off and steeled his determination to not stop bothering him until one of them died.

When they’d turned out to be college roommates – through what Ichigo was sure were _completely coincidental circumsta-_ oh yeah fucking right – Ichigo had tried to file for a replacement, because even though he wasn’t intimidated by Grimmjow, he hadn’t wanted to room with the guy. He was too loud and wild to study around.

Turned out, Grimmjow’s father was the dean, and probably a fucking mafia don too, but never mind that – the point was, no matter how many forms Ichigo had submitted, they’d always been conveniently lost, or denied, or, what do you know, _ripped up,_ and yeah, Ichigo wasn’t getting a new roommate.

At least Grimmjow had stopped trying to kill him a long time ago and had settled on being an asshole and generally making his life harder than it needed to be. Ichigo grudgingly considered them buds, although he was sure Grimmjow would deny caring about him in the slightest, because, you know, he was allergic to feelings, just like he was allergic to kittens – no, you didn’t see him petting that kitten, fuck off, he _hates_ kittens!

Ichigo pushed back his rolling chair from his writing desk and gave him a long-suffering scowl, but didn’t deny his statement. “Put that thing out before you catch hell from the RA.” He turned back to his laptop when Grimmjow just took another drag and raised an eyebrow. “I’m sick a’ that guy getting on my case because a’ you.”

“Geez, you bitch a lot,” Grimmjow noted in a deceptively calm tone, which meant more was coming, and sure enough, he added, “Probably ‘cuz you wanna’ fuck Abarai so much.”

“That is completely not true,” Ichigo replied as nonchalantly and disapprovingly as he could, because if he sounded upset or riled in the slightest, that was the surest way to make sure Grimmjow would never let the matter drop, ever. “We haven’t even talked.” He drummed his pencil on his notebook and then typed something. “I can’t wanna’ have sex with someone I haven’t even talked to.”

“Never stopped me.”

 _‘That’s because if you_ did _open up your mouth, they’d realize you basically almost always act like the human equivalent of sewage.’_ Ichigo chose to keep that particular comment to himself.

He didn’t turn so as not to give Grimmjow the satisfaction of distracting him from his coursework, but he could feel him staring into the back of his head. Ichigo ignored it, because he wasn’t going to give that fucker his way, but he did eventually say, “Different people have different needs.”

“And you need the guy from ‘Whatta Man,’” Grimmjow finished seamlessly, as if Ichigo hadn’t just stopped talking for like three whole minutes and then responded out of nowhere.

That got Ichigo a little flustered. _“No,”_ he denied indignantly, but still didn’t turn, instead glaring at his computer screen. “I just want something to be there, is that really so weird?”

“He’s hot, so yeah,” Grimmjow dismissed, then giving him a sharp look and pointing at him, cigarette stub between his fingers. “Be real here. You didn’t start gaggin’ for’m’ ‘cuz ya’ wanna’ talk quantum physics or whatever the fuck he studies.”

 _‘Civil engineering,’_ Ichigo barely held in, pressing his lips together.

Apparently his lack of response made Grimmjow think he needed to talk louder, so he honest-to-god cupped his hands around his mouth and stressed, “You’re gagging for his _entire dick.”_

Although he was used to Grimmjow’s vulgar blunt language and lack of boundaries, Ichigo still got irked that time, slapping his hand on his desk and spinning in his chair to scowl at him angrily. “Quit bein’ an asshole!” he snapped. “What’s the matter with wanting to be able to talk to the person you have sex with?” he demanded, staring Grimmjow in both eyes like he was facing down an aggressive dog.

Grimmjow blew smoke towards him, seeming somewhat smug in having riled him up, as if it proved something. “I dunno’ what your damage is over that. You’re not even that talkative anyways, man.”

Ichigo looked at Grimmjow for a minute more, knowing that he’d never admit that again, considering he was always complaining that he whined too much, or more accurately, that he ‘bitched and moaned’ or ‘nagged’ or ‘got PMS.’ Those things were easily brushed aside, but it bothered him this time though, because that _was_ true. He _wasn’t_ a talkative guy, and probably wouldn’t ever initiate a conversation with Renji.

“Whatever.” He turned back around, eyes downcast, and Grimmjow didn’t say anything else.

Whether or not Ichigo was a quiet guy, Renji _was_ a talkative person. And though they might not ever end up speaking… whatever, Ichigo still thought Renji had some crazy stories to share.

 

  _. . ._

_I thought I cut him at the root, but he keeps growing back like weeds._


	3. Ichigo Has A Crush

_I'm the only sour cherry on your fruit stand._

 

_. . ._

 

One day, he and Renji _do_ end up talking.

Ichigo kept studying in the library instead of the dorm because he was a masochistic bastard who wanted to see Renji outside of class even though he didn’t plan on trying to talk to him. He didn’t know what he expected to happen other than him sitting creepily and watching another dude who didn’t know about the creepy watching, but actually, something finally _did_ happen.

He was in the library again for admittedly non-academic purposes. Renji was there too, and was at the printer, trying to print a paper. All normal, other than the fact that Renji was _freaking out,_ which obviously was out of the ordinary, and piqued Ichigo’s interest enough that he pretended to be heading to the nearby bathrooms in order to get closer and figure out what his problem was.

Apparently Renji was out of credits and couldn’t print anything. He didn’t have time to go get his wallet and reload his student ID and pay for the paper before his next class, in which the paper was due, and was going nuts over it. Before he even really knew what he was doing, Ichigo had walked over there and lent his own card.

He didn’t have the time to start second-guessing his decision or kicking himself for acting weird, because Renji was so visibly relieved that Ichigo couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Hey, thanks,” he said gratefully, his voice sounding as though a thousand pounds of strain had been lifted away from it, breathy, deep, and shit - _sexy._ “That’s so cool a’ you.”

For what felt like the first time, Renji turned the full attention of his crinkling eyes and charming smile onto him and _saw_ him, really looked at him, and Ichigo froze up and kind of got this weird warm chill that he was sure made his hair stand up more than usual. Renji grinned at him and Ichigo felt like he was glowing.

When Ichigo thought back on the incident later while he was sitting on his bed with his laptop, he realized he was smiling at the memory and promptly let it drop off his face. There was no denying it at this point. He had a crush, and because he was a mature adult, he pulled his shirt collar up over his hot pink head and sulked under there for seven minutes.

“I’m so fucked, Grimm,” he mumbled later to his roommate. His head was still in his shirt, but he’d since flopped over onto his bed.

“It’s high time you got fucked, Kurosaki.” Ten or so minutes ago, Grimmjow had arrived back from class or whatever he did when he was skipping class, and had just gotten out of the bathroom in his dirty jeans and with a towel on his head. Scowling, Ichigo pulled his head out of his shirt and watched Grimmjow dry his hair casually, as if Ichigo’s crisis meant nothing.

He rolled towards the wall. “Whatever.” He’d minutes ago admitted to himself that he liked Renji, but whatever. Not like that was, you know, life-changing or anything. Ichigo wasn’t freaking out. He wasn’t even thinking about it.

He stuck his lip out and stared at a crack in the drywall, then tried not to seem glad when Grimmjow finally huffed at his silence and said more.

“I’m tellin’ you, man, you’re too old ta’ be a virgin.” Ichigo sat up and gave him an unimpressed look. Grimmjow looked back, appearing decidedly unintimidating with a towel covering his hair and forehead. “It’s why you’re so constipated about everything. Twenty-two year olds are _not meant to be virgins._ ”

"Oh whadda' _you_ know."

Ichigo made a face, but Grimmjow went on anyway, ruffling his hair dry by pulling the ends of the towel back and forth. “Seriously, you oughta’ be out dating at least, but no – you’re just this lonely _loser.”_

Ichigo flopped onto his back, arms out, and stared up at the ceiling, having decided not to dignify that with a response. At his silence, Grimmjow came towards him, and Ichigo flicked his eyes to the side, watching him suspiciously, because Grimmjow was known to do weird shit to him if he didn’t actively pay attention when he talked.

Shit, he was coming this way. Refusing to move, Ichigo remained sprawled out, but was lying rather rigidly, vision trained towards him as he stalked ever closer. “You’ve just gotta’ go get fucked.” When he was only a yard from Ichigo’s bed, he began to get seriously alarmed. “Talkin’ boutcho’ cherry pop-”

“Grimm, no.”

“Extra-ordinary, juice like a strawbe-”

“No, shut up,” Ichigo said loudly to try and drown out his singing, and scrambled away from Grimmjow when he came up to his bed, low-riding jeans level with Ichigo’s head. “I don’t even like that song.”

“Gotta’ give you love, oh cherry-”

_“No.”_

“Like a virgin, woo!”

Ichigo clamped his arms over his ears to try and block the noise, because each song change was worse than the last, but Grimmjow – not one to be ignored – was by then grinding around near him. “Oh my fucking god, are you on drugs or something?” He bounced his hips towards Ichigo’s face, to which Ichigo began kicking him and hurled himself away. “No, get the fuck away from me!”

Grimmjow snorted then, giving him an ugly sneer. “Heh’, yeah, you’re right.” He spat on the carpet. Ichigo hated when he did that. “Why would he want a frigid bastard like you anyways.” After glaring at him nastily for a moment more, he then turned his back on Ichigo and headed towards his spot by the window. Ichigo rolled his eyes with a small shake of his head.

“Yeah whatever, Grimm.”

As he usually did when he was mean and then Ichigo didn’t really respond in kind, he did this weird contradictory backpedal and returned to Ichigo’s previous concern or grievance. Of course, if Ichigo acknowledged it or called any kind of attention to it, he’d go right back to being an asshole, but whatever.

“He’s on Grindr,” Grimmjow offered helpfully, as if that were a viable solution. He’d tried to get Ichigo to make a profile before, but he had turned it down. He knew it was a way for gay men to meet strangers – for dates? – but he wasn’t interested in using it. He knew Grimmjow used it sometimes. He’d always hoped Grimmjow might meet somebody on it and be happier. He’d never seen the guy in love.

“Grindr,” he repeated, looking back over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Ichigo acknowledged blandly.

“I’m just sayin’ I could fuck that guy.”

“Yeah Grimm.” Like he said, Grimmjow got mad when he didn’t respond, and Ichigo didn’t want him to start singing again, so he replied, but didn’t rise to the again obvious bait.

Flip-flopping again when threatening to sleep with his crush didn’t bring Ichigo back to life, Grimmjow tried being borderline nice again. “He’s on Hornet too,” he muttered leadingly, and when Ichigo picked his head up at his pause, he clarified awkwardly, “That’s like, husband material.”

“Okay.”

Fed up, Grimmjow tossed his towel to the floor and griped, “Jesus, your attitude sucks.”

“What do you want from me?” Ichigo mumbled, eyeing him. Grimmjow just sighed incredibly heavily and rolled his eyes like he wanted to pop them out. _“What,”_ Ichigo grit out in irritation.

“Nothin’, just get out,” Grimmjow dismissed, waving a hand like he was done trying. “Just get outta’ here and go do something.”

“I’m busy,” Ichigo said stubbornly, firmly planting himself on his bed, hands ready to grip it in case Grimmjow should try to tear him off it and throw him out of the room by force, which wasn’t entirely a ridiculous notion.

“Busy bitchin’,” Grimmjow muttered, then vaulted the back of his couch the way he always did, and took his phone out and began scrolling with his thumb. He used his other hand to turn on the TV with the remote and go to the pay-per-view channels. “Nah man, get out, I’m callin’ someone over.” Ichigo didn’t immediately move, which had Grimmjow looking up over the back of the couch, his eyebrows raised.

“Unless you wanna’ cook some popcorn?” He gave a big gross smirk.

Ichigo hated when he got like that.

He grabbed some stuff and then headed out of the dorm, figuring he’d go get a chocolate milkshake and read in a cafe – you know, the usual stuff he does when he wants to feel better. Those plans were impeded when Keigo spotted him walking across campus and rushed over to him in his usual buoyant manner.

“Ichigo!” he greeted entirely too loudly, and then launched into this hard-to-follow but incredibly enthusiastic rundown of his weekend plans. At the end of it, he wasn’t positive, but was reasonably sure that Keigo had invited him to some kind of party.

“Ah, no…” He scratched at his hair and looked at the sky with a grimace. “I’ve got, uh, stuff.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Keigo protested, not ceasing for some time, explaining that he had to come, because Matsumoto was going to be there, along with a bunch of other people that were super cool! Ichigo, unswayed, was ready to burst Keigo’s bubble and turn him down – that is, until he heard that Renji was going.

And really, he didn’t actually have a choice after hearing that. Crushes were awful like that.

“Ah, okay… I guess I can come,” Ichigo conceded, and half-smiled at the delighted look of disbelief that crossed Keigo’s face. Despite how much his charisma could wear Ichigo out, he really was just a sweet dopey guy who meant well.

Keigo hardly wanted to let Ichigo go, as if not trusting that he’d show up if he let him out of his sight, but overall, he was just really excited that Ichigo had agreed to go do something with him finally. Ichigo told him he ought to calm down, but supposed that Keigo had reason to be excited.

He hadn’t hung out in a long time. Even in high school, he hadn’t spent much time with other kids outside of school. He’d had a group, he supposed, or some people who’d sort of followed him around and refused to be discouraged, like Inoue and Keigo. Chad, he’d been closer with, but other than that, Ichigo had always sort of felt like he’d just drifted through high school. He’d studied and participated and been in fights, but it had just been sort of placid, just going through the motions rather mildly. He’d been living in this constant gloom.

Well – he smiled – until he’d met Rukia, that is.

He could look back now and recognize that he’d been really lonely – sad too, although he didn’t like to admit that because it made him feel guilty; he didn’t deserve to be unhappy when so many people were worse off. Anyways, although he hadn’t been alone, he had indeed been lonely. No one had really gotten through to him past apathy and perhaps surface annoyance, maybe even rage or a vague fond and protective feeling, but then he’d met Rukia, and the cold numbing rain had stopped… just… _stopped._

It wasn’t even that the sun had come out or the clouds had gone, just that this continual downpour of grief and guilt and loneliness that had gone on nonstop for years seemed to have finally cried itself out. The water had finally gotten the chance to soak into the grounds of his heart, leaving it bare and smooth and soft, no longer so choked and inhospitable that it would drown anything that tried to grow there.

It had been like waking from a long convoluted fever dream. Everything seemed different, not quite real, and there was a pervading sense that he’d missed out on so much, and most of all, he was _alive again,_ not just living – he was alive.

From that day on, he’d sworn that he’d never let anyone or anything harm Rukia, and that if ever she needed anything, he’d be there. She was his reason to live, not just to keep existing, but to be _alive –_ so he’d promised he’d be the fair skies for her too. He swore. Not to anyone really; he’d just sworn. To himself, maybe. To his soul.

Ichigo went back to the dorm once he’d finally succeeded in peeling Keigo off and assuring him that he’d meet him in thirty-five minutes. When he headed back up to his room, he cautiously entered when he didn’t hear any loud sex – which was the only kind Grimmjow had – and then changed into some party clothes: ripped jeans, black jacket, his favorite ‘fifteen’ shirt.

He even borrowed some of Grimmjow’s gel and styled his hair, pushing his bangs up. He could do that shit now that his forehead had cleared up. Being a teenager had sucked.

Ichigo checked himself in the mirror, twisted at the waist, pulled at his jacket collar somewhat anxiously. He looked okay. Maybe Renji would notice.

He took special care to put all of Grimmjow’s stuff back exactly like it had been, pulled his phone off the charger, and then headed out the door to meet Keigo, who was at the designated meeting place early. As they walked together, Ichigo wondered who Renji was going to the party with. Would he remember Ichigo?

Calming the stupid and completely irrational fluttering of his heart, Ichigo settled into his usual chill and unconcerned attitude. He was cool, he was all the way fine.

Gardening gloves on, soil fresh, fair-enough weather. Time to try planting something.

Who knew – maybe something entirely new would grow.


	4. Ichigo Gets in a Fight

_If you wanna' start a fight, you'd better throw the first punch – make it a good one._

_. . ._

 

Once he and Keigo got there, Ichigo was kind of reserved and aloof, having forgotten in his dazed state of being willing to do anything to see Renji that he didn’t do well at parties. Hopefully he could get through tonight without incident. At least it wasn’t another floor-welcoming party. This time, the venue was an off-campus club, and most of the frat was there. Someone had rented out a room – who knew how much that had fucking cost.

“How the hell did you get invited to this party?” Ichigo muttered in utter bewilderment, scanning the room in dismay when he didn’t immediately spot the person he’d come for. If Renji wasn’t here, this night was going to be dull as rocks – not to mention a huge waste of time. Well, at least in here it wasn’t as loud as the rest of the club, although the walls were still vibrating due to the heavy bass going on in the dance-floor levels of the building. Most of the people in here were lounging and drinking; some were shooting pool.

“Hey, it was open-invite!” Keigo blustered defensively, to which Ichigo raised an eyebrow and looked around again with a growing sense of desperation. Please be here . . .

When he was about to give it up as a lost cause, Ichigo spotted Renji having fun playing Beirut, and once he had, he let his gaze linger for a moment, then reluctantly allowed Keigo to drag him off to get a drink. Luckily those were free. Ichigo had seen the bottle service prices in this place, and just looking at all the zeros made him sweat.

Although he kind of wandered around with Keigo, over the course of the party Ichigo took the opportunity to watch Renji in what seemed like his natural environment. Ichigo didn’t go near him, per se, but it was impossible to completely ignore him. Even though he’d since realized that Renji wasn’t the jerky dumb asshole he’d believed him to be, well… the party animal, the social creature, and the extrovert – those all still held true. That meant that Ichigo had an excuse to stare at him from time to time, because it’s not like he was being _quiet_ over there.

For one, Renji flirted a lot and told a bunch of stupid but weirdly funny jokes – it really was no wonder that everyone knew him and liked him. He had an unforgettable and incredibly endearing presence. Along with Renji seeming to have been designated as the group’s storyteller and falling into the role with ease, what Ichigo also noticed was that he was kind of touchy-feely, getting in everyone’s space with a certain familiarity, the kind long-time friends had with each other. At first it confused and admittedly bugged Ichigo, but after watching him for a time, it was clear that Renji didn't mean anything by it and was just an affectionate guy. Even though he was kind of loud and maybe a bit hyper, and just, _a lot,_ in every sense of the words, it seemed to work for him in his warm and welcoming way – everybody loved him.

That wasn’t to say he was oblivious to his own charms though; god knows the guy sure knew how to use it. Once, he actually let a couple women feel his bicep – and wow, fuck, Ichigo had only seen that kind of shit in chauvinistic movies. So yeah, even though it didn't seem to mean much of anything to Renji, he flirting wasn’t a minor thing at all; it was effusive, and the longer he watched him, he started to wonder why the fuck he’d come here. He tried not to feel jealous, because what the hell did he want to squeeze Renji’s stupid arm for anyways, but it was hard.

 _‘You knew you weren’t going to talk to him or anything, so what did you expect to happen? What were you even hoping for?’_ Ichigo grimaced and turned away. _‘_ _Why did you even come here? To torture yourself? Shit… just ignore him.’_

There were some games going on, but Ichigo didn’t really participate, instead hanging back – however, he did deign to watch Keigo lose at cards when he decided that staring at Renji the whole time when he wasn’t gonna’ go say anything to him was the mark of a loser. After a while, he actually started to somewhat enjoy himself and quit compulsively looking over to Renji every few seconds, although he still was aware of Renji’s placement in the room at any given time.

Of course, since Ichigo was never allowed to have things go well for too long at a time, the universe decided to send him a huge ‘fuck you’ right about then.

He was minding his own business, lingering behind Keigo and viewing his poor hands with a mix of amusement and exasperation, sipping from his drink, when suddenly some guy bumped into him very unsubtly on his way past.

Not sweating it, Ichigo just rolled his eyes darkly and didn’t stir the pot, knowing it was just some jerk trying to act tough.

The thing is, unluckily for Ichigo, the guy obviously had some sort of beef, because it wasn’t enough to just be a jerk – he didn’t keep walking after getting away with shoving him like that. Instead, he doubled down: when Ichigo didn’t react, he did it again about half a minute later, and much rougher. Ichigo acknowledged him that time now that half his drink had sloshed over the sides, and looked at him with an unimpressed deadpan, but still didn’t say anything.

Making eye contact had been a mistake, because the validation of Ichigo’s acknowledgement seemed to give the fucker some sort of perverse kick. Ichigo recognized it because it was the same look Grimmjow always got in his eye when he got his way. He took a minute to inwardly groan, knowing that this guy wasn’t going to quit. Fuck, why was it _always_ him?

“Whadda’ you keep touching me for, huh?” the guy jeered. Ichigo didn’t know why he was picking on him, but could only assume that he was insecure somehow, as all bullies were – which confused him, as the man had quite a handsome face. He did have this weird thing going on with his hair though, and from his ear piercings, he probably was a… mechanic?

 _‘Clearly nobody’s touching you,’_ Ichigo thought flatly but still didn’t say anything, merely grimacing.

“What, you got nothin’a’ say?” A heavy hand cuffed Ichigo on the shoulder, giving him a little shove, and Ichigo took a step away, glaring, but didn’t do anything. Everyone at Keigo’s game table had paused in their poker hand, staring. Keigo seemed frozen, eyes round, as if he’d remembered why it was a bad idea to invite Ichigo places – even though it didn’t happen as much now that he was out of high school, fights happened around him with alarming frequency.

“Why’re you lettin’ me shove you, huh? You like this?” An ugly sneer crossed the guy’s face. “What, you some sorta’ faggot?” he snarled, which, okay, _wow,_ Ichigo had to blink a bit at that one.

He hit Ichigo harder, pushing him back, which was starting to really irk him. They’d drawn a lot of attention by that point. Keigo was whining nervously and going on and on, but he was being ignored.

Ichigo really didn’t feel like picking shit tonight – he especially didn’t want to get involved in a scene with Renji around – but this guy was being a real asshole, and Ichigo didn’t let people push him around much, if at all. This guy clearly had some deep-seated personal issues and serious denial going on, and had something to prove, and although he looked like he was cut from steel, Ichigo saw right through him. This jerk could snarl and flex all he wanted, but Ichigo wasn’t the type to be intimidated – he was rough, tough, and hard to bluff.

“Look man, I’m not doing anything,” Ichigo finally replied calmly, “What’s your problem?”

This only seemed to encourage him. “Who’s got a problem, _fag?”_ He shoved him again, and by this time, Ichigo had been backed up far enough that Renji was nearby. In fact, although he was still talking and laughing as usual, he was looking over towards them every few sentences with a frown. Ichigo grit his teeth. God, why today?

“Why’re you letting me shove you like this?”

“Fuck _off!_ ” he barked, and as pink-hair chicken-head went to shove him again, Ichigo roughly smacked his arm away, and he could see now that this guy just wanted to fight, because although he scowled, a gleam of satisfaction sparked in his eyes.

Yeah, looked like there was no getting out of this. Ugh, he didn’t want to fight tonight!

Eventually, Ichigo was being majorly picked on, and told the guy and his stooges to just fuck off and leave him alone, which they didn’t take kindly to. The resulting shove he received was so rough that he was knocked backwards a couple steps and into Renji, who, to Ichigo’s grand surprise and embarrassment, after letting out a breathy ‘oof’ at the unsteady blow to the chest, caught and grabbed him by the upper arms and held him for a moment. Ichigo wanted to fucking die, and didn’t move for a second or two, frozen, his back against Renji’s warm chest.

“Woah, the fuck,” Renji sputtered, “watch what you’re doin’!” He didn’t actually sound mad, more concerned that he might be too drunk or something and was stumbling around, but Ichigo vaguely knew that Renji had been watching him get bullied, which was fucking _mortifying._

If Ichigo had thought it was bad then, he’d been dead wrong, because things escalated from a two to a ten from one second to the next.

It happened too fast – Ichigo hadn’t even had time to jump away from Renji’s warm hands and- and _chest_ and choke out an apology or so much as fucking _blush_ , Renji’s words hadn’t cooled on his lips yet, his hands still gripping Ichigo’s arms, not having had enough time to help Ichigo stand back up. One moment Ichigo got just a flash of a smile from Renji, as if he were laughing at his clumsiness, and then the next, Ichigo had gotten punched across the face.

Ichigo tasted blood, and everything was buzzing. It took him a second to realize it wasn’t just his head ringing, but the whole room having broken out into pandemonium.

“The fuck, man?!” Renji howled, and practically dropped Ichigo as he lunged for the guy and grabbed him by the shirt to sock him back, and basically everyone there started fighting.

Leaping to his feet, Ichigo wasn’t given a moment’s rest, quickly dodging a flying shot glass that shattered behind him against the wall. Even though Renji and that other guy were half-on the floor and beating each other bloody somewhere in the fray, having effectively stolen Ichigo’s would-be opponent, Ichigo still wasn’t exempt, as the guy’s posse were still after him too, it seemed. He wasn’t too happy about it, but it was easy to fall back on the skills he’d accrued in high-school, walking home every day and avoiding the local gang who’d had it out for him.

By then, everybody was either beating up somebody else, or running panicked and freaking out. It wasn’t the best fight Ichigo had been in – people were hitting each other with chairs, for god’s sake. When someone broke a lightbulb, he had to wonder how long it fucking took for bouncers to climb two flights of steps?

Before it was all over with – but after he’d managed to exchange blows with the jerk who’d first messed with him of course – Ichigo left, because it was mostly just Renji and his friends in an all-out brawl by that point, Ichigo and the original reasons for the fight having been forgotten.

Making it out of the dark sweaty club, Ichigo blinked through the glow of the street lights and the stars, noting the cool breeze lightly blowing trash around on the ground. It was almost startlingly quiet by comparison to the stuffy packed building, and after brushing himself off and walking a little ways away, Ichigo slouched a bit and wiped his bloody nose, feeling at the aching bridge.

Sighing as he kicked a half-crumpled beer can down the empty street, Ichigo swore to himself. Damn, this night had not gone at all how he’d hoped.

 

_. . ._

_I know what it's like to have to trade the ones that you love for the ones you hate._


	5. Ichigo Plays Doctor

After the fight, Ichigo wandered around in the night, gathering his bearings. He was only minorly injured: a small cut to the cheek, a bloody nose that had since stopped dripping, scrapes on his knuckles and palms, and a sore stomach. At least he wasn’t about to toss it. He hadn’t really drunk enough at the party to even have much of a buzz, but he was pretty sure that his shoes had gotten soaked anyways after someone had flipped a table of drinks onto the ground.

Whatever. Looks like he’d have to suck it up and head back with soggy shoes. After staring around him blearily for a few more moments, he started walking back, hands in his pockets, hood up. The buildings around were tall, mostly brick, and occasionally broken by an intersection or a light hanging from the side. Ichigo kept close to the walls, scuffing his feet glumly.

After a few blocks, he met Renji on the street, under a streetlight. He was on the opposite side, wandering a few squares of sidewalk and staring around him confusedly. He seemed somewhat disoriented.

Ichigo hunched his shoulders and put his head down, hoping his hood covered his hair well enough. He’d already passed by when Renji realized who it was, and after slowing halfway through the glow of a streetlight, he hesitantly glanced back at the call of his name. “Kurosaki? That you?”

Ichigo stopped and let Renji approach. “Osu.”

As he crossed the road and caught up, he came into the light of the streetlamp Ichigo was partly under, revealing that half of his face was streaked with blood, gleaming and wet. “Damn dude, you look horrible,” Ichigo noted warily. Renji laughed a bit, seeming to sway.

“That was freakin’ crazy,” he said with a red grin.

Ichigo sighed and looked away. He’d imagined this scenario a thousand times, finally talking to Renji, finally being alone with him, but now that it was happening, he found that he was disappointed – dejected even. He just felt like shit, and wanted to go home.

“No thanks to you escalating the fuck out of it,” Ichigo growled, and walked past him. Immediately he kicked himself, because when you liked someone, you were supposed to be nice, you were supposed to try and make them like you – but he was still embarrassed about earlier, and it had just come out in anger. He didn’t know what to do, and his impulse was to just walk away and forget this ever happened.

Tonight was just a reminder, it was much better not to open yourself up to disappointment in the first place than to hope and have it wrecked.

It didn’t really even matter – at this point everything was pretty much ruined anyway.

Ichigo didn’t look back, but he could hear that Renji was standing and staring after him. Biting his lip, he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and just kept walking, his heart in his throat, throbbing and aching. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and then, footsteps… footsteps that didn’t grow any quieter. Throwing a wary glance over his shoulder, he found that Renji was following him some ways back.

… Weird.

Ichigo didn’t look back again, keeping his chin high and his hands in his pockets, but it didn’t matter, because that one glance was enough for Renji to feel welcome to take a few jogging steps to catch up to him. _‘Great.’_ Ichigo grit his teeth, his entire body cringing away from Renji’s. Why couldn’t he just leave Ichigo alone… Did he _know_ or something? Did he like making Ichigo feel like this?

Oblivious to the hysteria welling up inside Ichigo, Renji walked at his side and tried to peer around him, arguing against his tight-lipped silence as if upset by the mere sight of his stony expression. “Hey,” he urged with a scowl, and when Ichigo didn’t say a word, he pressed again, “Hey, you can’t be mad at me.”

 _‘Oh yeah?’_ Ichigo thought petulantly with a tinge of panic.

Renji continued to try to half-stick his body in front of Ichigo’s, as if to force him to look at him – and he did a pretty good job of it, the fucking giraffe. “You tellin’ me you woulda’ just done _not shit_ after he slugged you, like some sorta’ _chump?”_ Sticking his lip out, Renji gave him an appraising look. “My _ass_ you woulda’ done nothing.”

For some reason, the way Renji sounded satisfied with what he perceived as Ichigo’s grit, his toughness, his strength – it really got under Ichigo’s skin. This had been one of the worst nights he’d had in a long time, and to think that Renji was impressed somehow, that he finally saw Ichigo and noticed him _tonight –_ it made him want to die of shame. He’d been at his worst tonight, he’d gotten humiliated in front of everybody, and that was the moment Renji had chosen to see him? Ichigo couldn’t bear it. He would’ve rather Renji never known him, he would’ve rather have been nobody to Renji forever than have him see him like that. He would rather Renji keep hating him than start admiring him _now._

Throat tight and hot with shame, Ichigo’s defenses came down heavily, but before he could think of a retort, something nasty and hurtful that could make Renji feel as small and awful as he felt right now, Renji went on with a smirk. “I know who you are, Kurosaki. Everyone knows how you beat off a whole gang with that huge Latino kid when you were only a high schooler.”

“His name is Sado,” Ichigo bristled, finally needled into responding, but Renji just waved a hand with a nod, going on.

Ichigo frowned and glanced to him furtively as he pulled his fists in at his sides with a huge charismatic grin. “That five ambulances thing? So _awesome!”_

Ichigo looked away sharply, shoulders hunching as he pretended to kick a rock on the sidewalk. So Renji knew about that, huh?... Forget tonight’s humiliating debacle, it looked like all Renji had ever seen of Ichigo were his worst moments. If Renji had known that about him for who knew how long, Ichigo had never even had a chance to look cool, to really impress him.

Putting a hand to his temple, Ichigo let out a harrowed sigh. “Feels like everybody heard about that…”

“Oh, you have no _idea_ how long Bazz has been dyin’a’ step ta’ you,” Renji enthused, refusing to match Ichigo’s low volume. It didn’t matter that Renji was gushing with praise for him – all Ichigo felt like was a worthless loser.

“Whatever, nothin’ was stoppin’ him,” he muttered bitterly, assuming ‘Bazz’ was the guy who’d treated him like shit at the party. It was kind of irksome to hear that he was Renji’s friend, but then… weird. Ichigo wondered why Renji had been so quick to hit Bazz-B when he’d punched him, if they were friends…

Renji just kept right on talking, obviously hearing Ichigo, because each time he responded, no matter how flatly or quietly, Renji was worked up into even more of a frenzy – however, he never really paused when Ichigo said anything, talking right on his tails. “An’ you totally delivered too, you were fuckin’ _wild!”_ Renji pumped a fist, grinning at him. “You showed that loser!”

“Who cares.”

Either weirded out enough by Ichigo’s bored tone that he thought it was a good idea to change the subject, or just that smooth, Renji looked at him for a minute and then said, “So uh, where’d your buddy take off to?”

Ichigo curled his toes inside his shoes, because that meant Renji must’ve seen him come in and remembered he’d been with somebody. It didn’t have to mean anything, but Ichigo still felt all weird inside anyways.

“Hm?” He looked up, and when Renji met his eyes head on – like he’d been _waiting_ for them – Ichigo quickly looked away in surprise. “I dunno’.” Renji continued watching him attentively, seeming to know that Ichigo wasn’t done talking even though he gave a long awkward pause.

He knew Keigo was fine from the way his phone kept buzzing; he’d probably call him back after he got home. Honestly, he felt kind of bad about ruining Keigo’s night. The poor guy had been having fun and actually making friends for once, and Ichigo had fucked all of that up as usual. Really, he doesn’t know why Keigo tried so hard to be his friend when Ichigo was so shitty at it.

At Renji’s quiet but avid attention, Ichigo finally finished with a sigh, “Probably scrammed when dudes started getting fuckin’ bottles and shit smashed over their heads.”

Renji hummed. Ichigo looked up at him as he walked, twisting his mouth sideways as he tried desperately to keep the conversation going, unable to help the sudden sprout of hope. They were finally talking…

Suddenly feeling a bit shy, he ducked his head down and tried to match Renji’s long lazy strides, each of Renji’s steps matching to about one and a half of his own. “What about you?... Where, where’re your guys?” he asked, his voice coming out a bit flat.

Renji watched him silently through his lengthy faltering query – which just served to fluster Ichigo even more – but once he got the gist of what Ichigo was saying, he perked up in understanding.

“Oh,” he said brightly, easily sharing with a wave of his hand, “Someone called the cops, so we all fucked off.”

“… Mm,” Ichigo nodded, licked his lips, and then wondered tentatively, “and what’re you doin’ now?” _‘_ – _and_ _why are you walking with me?’_ he also wondered insecurely.

“Ah, I don’t have the money for a night taxi, so I’m walkin’ back to my dorm.”

“You might wanna’ walk to the hospital,” Ichigo noted warily. Renji was still staggering a bit, but he seemed to be acting normally enough – other than how he was being _nice_ to him as if they were friends. Not that he was upset!

“Ah, nah,” Renji brushed off with a smile, the stretching of his mouth causing the dried blood on his cheek to crack and peel a bit. Some of it still looked a little wet, but it was hard to tell in the dark. “Most of this is furuts panchi.”

“That ain’t fruit punch,” Ichigo said skeptically.

“This ain’t mine,” Renji bullshitted.

“That’s yours.”

At Ichigo’s flat refusal to entertain his blatant lies, Renji just smiled at him warmly, and, with his eyes twinkling in the low light, said rather sheepishly, “Well, maybe I just didn’t wanna’ worry you.”

Ichigo’s eyes widened, and he quickly snapped his head forward, hunching his shoulders. “Why would I be worried,” he snapped defensively, terrified that Renji might’ve seen through him, “I didn’t ask you ta’ help me.”

“So what, I don’t need an invitation.” The nonchalance of that statement really irked Ichigo. “When you can help, you shouldn’t wait to be asked.”

“Was that supposed to sound wise or something?” Renji frowned at Ichigo’s venom and shrugged a shoulder. Not finished trying to throw Renji off the scent, Ichigo continued railing against him. “I didn’t need you. Besides, hitting your friend in the face doesn’t sound like much of a help anyway,” he grumbled. “You shouldn’ta’ done that.”   _‘_ – _not on my account,’_ he wanted to say. More than anything, he didn’t want Renji to feel like he had to be saved.

“Ahh, Ichigo, he was bein’ an asshole,” Renji dismissed. “He got what was coming to him.” He stretched his arms above his head, his breath seeping from his chest slowly as usual. “We butt heads a lot, but we’re cool, so if you’re worried we’ll have a falling out over it, don’t.”

Ichigo scowled. “I’m not…”

Renji stretched the last amount that his reach would allow, and then stumbled a bit as he let his arms come down. As they passed into the next streetlight, they came to a stop. Ichigo saw that he’d been mistaken in thinking the wound had closed; Renji’s face was soaked in blood. Ichigo watched in concern as Renji winced minutely and felt at the left side of his head a bit, his hand coming away bloody.

“Oh my god, Renji, get that thing looked at.”

“I don’t have the money,” Renji replied, feeling his head again and then checking his wet fingers. “I’ve had worse,” he mumbled, belying an obvious uncertainty as he felt his head again and said, “I’ll just... just put some ice on it.”

 _“Ice-”_ Ichigo began, infuriated, and then huffed, “Look…” Renji did, and before Ichigo could doubt himself, grit out, “My dad’s a physician, so I have some med training. I don’t have a license, but I know some shit… and you’ve gotta’ fucking get that checked out.”

“You’re in pre-med, aren’t you?” Renji frowned, and when Ichigo glared at him, he hastily corrected himself. “Okay, okay, med track, right?”

“Yeah, look, my point is, if you’re not gonna’ go to the hospital, then maybe you can let me take care of it, no prob.” Renji quirked a brow, which made Ichigo shift and squirm uncertainly. “I mean… if that’s not weird.”

Ichigo already regretted making the suggestion, but Renji didn’t consider it for more than a moment, not leaving him much time to sweat over it. “Uh, yeah sure,” he agreed amiably. “Lemme’ just make a pitstop ta’ puke though.”

Hesitantly, Ichigo observed, “You don’t look that drunk.”

“Oh nah, I’m dry.” Renji waved a hand, grimacing. “I just got slammed in the gut a couple times and I’m ‘bout ta’ toss it on your shoes, and that’d totally ruin my smooth game.”

Ichigo was silent for a long time. _‘Fuck,’_ he thought, and was glad it was dark out.

After Renji stopped at a 7-11 on the way back to campus with Ichigo waiting patiently for him out front, Ichigo then took Renji up to his dorm, quickly flashing his card at the front door to let them in. By the time they got up the stairs and quietly walked down the hall together, they came to the right room and found that there was an underwear on the door handle.

They both stopped and looked at it, then at each other, and Renji stuck up his pinkie finger with a raised and questioning eyebrow. Ichigo rolled his eyes and leaned forward to put his ear to the door, which wasn’t exactly necessary, because if there was somebody still in there with Grimmjow, they’d know. He then opened the door and went in, Renji following slowly with a proper guest’s hesitance to intrude.

Their dorm consisted of one large front room with an attached kitchenette and bathroom. Their beds were on the front and back wall, and the far right side of the room had Grimmjow’s couch and TV and Ichigo’s desk. The tiny bathroom was on the left wall with the kitchen, Ichigo’s dresser shoved in the corner there. The point was, with basically _one_ _room_ , it was impossible for there to be much privacy, meaning Ichigo didn’t even blink at the sight of Grimmjow sleeping on top of his covers over there, because he’d seen it all before.

He was in bed, ass-naked and smelling of a fresh shower, his bed-mate having already been kicked out. Luckily, he slept on his front, and was holding a pillow underneath his face, his tattoo and ass left on display. He was still but for extremely deep breaths, and his hair moved slightly from the breeze of the open window. From the sight of the cigarette that had burnt out on the floor, Ichigo assumed he’d fallen asleep smoking again.

Neither of them talked, so as not to wake him up; Grimmjow had a very bad temper when he was awoken prematurely, especially after sex. That aphorism about waking a sleeping bear didn’t even begin to encompass the full extent of Grimmjow’s savagery.

After a quick look-around, Ichigo led Renji into the bathroom, which, to his irritation, was pretty much torn apart after Grimmjow’s late-night rinse-off. There wasn’t much space in there for both of them as it was, and rather than face the awkwardness just yet, Ichigo peeked his head out for a second to check Grimmjow one last time, and then shut the door.

“He’s gonna’ pay for this in the morning,” Ichigo mumbled, feeling embarrassed about the mess. Renji merely kicked a towel aside with a low laugh and put his hands in his pockets. “You can sit right there.”

Renji sat on the toilet lid and watched while Ichigo silently got out the first-aid kit and set it on the sink ledge. Suddenly doubting whether this had been a good idea, Ichigo cleared his throat and opened up the little case, rifling through for bandages and disinfectant.

He hasn’t had to take care of anyone since Grimmjow had gotten pissed at him and gone to a Limp Bizkit concert with his gang of sycophants. He’d tried to get Ichigo to come, but when Ichigo had turned it down – because damnit, the mosh pits at those concerts were dangerous, like _grown men running at each other like steam-engines and doing body slams_ dangerous – Grimmjow had been furious and really mean to him for days: ‘Fuck you, Ichigo, I didn’t want you to come anyways, you would’ve ruined all the fun.’ Ichigo was paraphrasing the filth and abuse Grimmjow had hit him with, of course, but nevertheless, Grimmjow had finally gone on his own with his _‘_ _real_ buds.’ He’d come home the next morning looking like he’d been hit by a truck, but his bad attitude had gone, and he’d just sat on the couch and let Ichigo fix his fucked-up face and hadn’t said anything to him for two days.

It had seemed logical when they were out on the street in the night and Renji had told him he wasn’t going to the hospital for a gaping head wound, but now that they were here in his tiny bathroom in this suffocating silence, Ichigo felt slightly uneasy. He didn’t know what to say, his entire body uncomfortably stiff.

Fortunately, when he finally turned and saw that fresh blood was spilling down Renji’s face and head, he lost most of his apprehension – apparently, he’d picked off the scab or something by scratching it, the dummy. Ichigo got Renji to remove his jacket, since it was just getting soaked in blood and ruined anyways, and then also had him take his bandanna off. That had taken some coaxing, surprisingly, but Renji had reluctantly parted with it, holding it in his hand.

Ichigo realized with a sudden jolt, as he looked at Renji’s damp forehead and the wet bloody side of his head, that he’d never seen him without a bandanna or sunglasses or a beanie or something on his head. He couldn’t help but stand agog for a moment, staring in interest at the thick black tattoos, wondering why it had never occurred to him to wonder what had been hidden there before. I mean, of course he’d _known_ that Renji’s constant bandanna-wearing covered up something, because the peaks were visible above it, but…

_‘Cool…’_

Renji seemed acutely aware of the whole thing, seeing as he sat rigidly with dark eyes staring up at Ichigo distrustfully, his hands in fists in each of his pant-legs. He didn’t say anything, as if challenging Ichigo to make some sort of remark. Jolting, Ichigo quickly averted his eyes and fumbled around for a few moments, trying to remember what he was supposed to have been doing. He could hear Renji swallow and ease somewhat.

“Okay, lemme’ just,” Ichigo muttered, wetting a washcloth and coming around the far side of Renji to get at his face. He squeezed himself inbetween the shower stall and the toilet to reach Renji better, and tried hard to forget that whole thing. He put his best effort into avoiding staring at anything except the gash on the side of Renji’s head – not his flimsy low-necked shirt, nor the length of his eyelashes, and definitely not the handsome profile of his face.

Ichigo took an anticipatory breath of courage, eyes trained on the wound, and brought the wet towel towards it.

“What’re you doing?” Renji said awkwardly, leaning back warily and eyeing his hand, which made Ichigo pause, bewildered.

“I’m just gonna’ wash the blood off, geez,” he explained, and then tried to touch the cloth to his head, but Renji dodged back again and put his hand up.

“I can do that myself.”

“No, just let me,” Ichigo protested against Renji’s stubbornness and quickly evaded Renji’s next attempts to block him, and touched the towel to his face. Renji had tried to push him away and grab it out of his hand, but the moment Ichigo touched him with it, he went absolutely still, like he was afraid that if he struggled, Ichigo might accidentally press on his wound.

“I’m telling you, I can do that,” Renji hissed, still unnaturally frozen, his eyes wide and murderous.

“Just sit still already,” Ichigo growled, but conceded to take his hand back so that Renji could relax. Renji immediately unfroze and gave a deep frown, watching him like a hawk. Moving the towel back in to dab at the bits of congealed blood and to mop up the fresh gushes, Ichigo had to keep Renji from grabbing it again.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Shh!” Ichigo hushed when Renji protested a bit too loud. He let the towel fall and glared into Renji’s face. “Are you stupid? Is this why you came here, to be a stubborn-ass the whole time?” Renji’s expression soured, but Ichigo just hissed in a whisper, “I don’t wanna’ fight right now, okay? So can you just skip the part where you try to act macho and shut up and sit still?”

Renji put his tongue in his cheek and scowled, then mumbled that he wasn’t trying to act macho, he just didn’t need help wiping his own face. Ichigo wisely chose not to comment, because even though Renji had to have the last word, he did let him wash his face after that, although not without petulantly sticking his lip out. Ichigo sighed with an eyeroll and carefully dabbed at the side of his head, directing him to tilt it to the side so he could get a better angle. Renji watched him warily, but seemed pacified, and didn’t complain again.

Ichigo wasn’t used to keeping a running commentary going, being a kind of withdrawn person, but Renji got really twitchy every time he changed tasks, watching his every move with a certain suspicion. He seemed more at ease when Ichigo told him what he was doing as he did it, so Ichigo tried to get used to explaining what and why he was doing certain things while he took care of him.

He checked his eyes for dilated pupils several times, gently holding Renji’s eyelid open and using his phone light to watch his pupils constrict. After washing his face clean, he disinfected the split over his nose and another above his eyebrow. Other than seeming genuinely alarmed for a moment by the rubbing alcohol and biting his lips hard at the sting, Renji didn’t make things difficult. Ichigo then bandaged his cuts, a simple bandaid on his nose and a butterfly on his eyebrow. “Leave those on for a while.” Renji nodded absently, feeling at them curiously like a child touching a hair braid done on them by an older admired teen.

By that time, Renji was remarkably docile, and just let Ichigo do his thing, and Ichigo in turn didn’t feel so nervous about being around Renji that much anymore. In fact, he pretty much forgot about his crush entirely, focused enough on his work that the silence no longer bothered him. He felt around Renji’s scalp for some time, digging his fingers gently through the hair bound by Renji’s ponytail, and then, satisfied that there were no bumps or other hidden cuts, ducked down a few minutes later to see that Renji had his eyes peacefully closed. They opened immediately as Ichigo held the corner of Renji’s mouth up to check his teeth.

Renji merely blinked and held still as Ichigo moved his lip aside and pulled out his cheek, shining his phone light on his teeth. Ichigo grimaced. There was a lot of blood in Renji’s mouth. He must not have noticed in the dark of the street earlier, but Renji still could’ve mentioned it, the dumb shit. It was a shame; Renji had such a nice smile. Ichigo hated the thought that his teeth may have come loose.

Intending to check the damage further in a moment, Ichigo snuck out to their fridge and came back with an ice pack, holding it onto the big gash above Renji’s sideburn, which was still oozing. He knew Renji wouldn’t be happy if he tried to wrap gauze around his head, so instead, he just held the ice pack there – or tried to.

“I can do that.”

“Fine.” Deciding to pick his battles, Ichigo let Renji take the frozen chicken nuggets and adjusted his arm when he held the pack slightly too low. He then checked Renji’s teeth again, grimacing. They didn’t look good. The ones in the back on the left were all red and crooked, and prodding one, Renji let out a surprised gasp and jolted slightly, but thankfully didn’t bite his finger. Ichigo grimaced at how wiggly the teeth were, poking them again.

“Yeah,” he evaluated reluctantly, knowing Renji wasn’t going to like his diagnosis. He took one last look and then let go of Renji’s mouth. “You’ve gotta’ have your teeth splinted.”

“Really?” Renji noted anxiously, brows pushing together as he looked up to him for confirmation. His elbow dropped too low, and Ichigo nudged it up again, grimacing.

“Yep. You can feel that they’re loose, right?”

“Ahuh,” he mumbled, mouth open and feeling around with his tongue, expression pinched. It couldn’t feel good to have all his molars wiggling around like that.

“That’s bad. You _have_ to get that splinted.”

Finally becoming frustrated, tone hot and harsh, Renji barked lowly, “Ichigo, I fucking told you, I don’t have the fucking money.”

“…” Ichigo grimaced, but didn’t say anything, staring him down blandly for a few seconds and then ignoring him for a time in favor of taking a look at his own face in the mirror. He looked normal, other than being tired and bruised. He could probably afford to put some ice on his cheek once Renji left. For now, he just put some rubbing alcohol on the split to his cheekbone. The fucker who’d punched him had worn his class ring.

As Grimmjow did when Ichigo went eerily silent, Renji began squirming after a while, and eventually he cleared his throat and worriedly mumbled, “Is it bad?” He felt at his cheek, and with a sort of panicked tone, asked hopefully, “Can you fix it?”

“No,” Ichigo answered, turning and leaning his bum against the sink counter. “I don’t have the right stuff.” When Renji frowned, he added, “Plus, like I said, I don’t have a license.”

“I don’t care about that, you’re-” Renji stopped then, scrunching his eyebrows, holding his ice pack too low again, to Ichigo’s exasperation. “I mean, I hate doctors, but you’re pretty okay. I’m sure you could do it.”

“Thanks, but you really have to go to the hospital for something like that.” It wasn’t really negotiable, but Renji sure tried.

“I can’t go there, Ichigo. _You’ve_ gotta’ take care of it,” he implored, but Ichigo shook his head.

“Sorry, I can’t.” Ichigo gave him a serious look. “You’ve gotta’ get that looked at.” Renji’s face shut down, and Ichigo could immediately see that he didn’t intend at all to listen to his advice. “Just to be clear, if you don’t, they will fall out.”

Renji’s eyes went wide and terrified. “Aw shit…” He put his fist to his chin, leaning on it, then mumbled, “Maybe if I sell my Xbox…” He looked at his shiny phone sadly.

Ichigo cleared his throat and then checked Renji’s head under the ice pack, lightly feeling the edges of the gash. Renji sat there calmly, bearing through it. They were quiet for some time as Ichigo cleaned the last bits of dried blood from Renji’s scalp, taking care not to pull on any of his hairs as he picked around them or to mistake a scab for a flake of encrusted blood and end up reopening his wound. He taped down a cotton ball over the cut and told Renji he could wear a bandanna over it if he wanted – a clean one, mind you.

“So hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Renji suddenly said, and Ichigo froze, feeling as though he’d been attached to a live wire.

_‘He has?’_

“You have?” he inquired rather helplessly, feeling rather like the poor guy from _Teenage Dirtbag_ on prom night _._

“Yeah.” Renji flicked his eyes towards him, letting his head remain motionless under Ichigo’s rigid hands. “I just wanted ta’ say thanks for helping me out that one time.”

Ichigo took his hands away and Renji let the ice pack slap back down over his head, but he kept looking at him, kept smiling even though Ichigo just gaped. When a significant amount of time passed and Ichigo still hadn’t said anything, Renji clarified then, awkwardly, as if he thought Ichigo might have forgotten, “… You know, with my paper in the library? You remember that?” Ichigo nodded numbly. Renji lit up in a grin. “Man, you saved my _entire ass._ My professor’s super strict.”

Ichigo smiled back a little and _glowed,_ his fingertips shaking and his lungs swelling out of his control. Trying to fight down a wonderful bubbling of an excited and happy feeling, Ichigo mumbled, mouth twisted in amusement, “What, would he have beat ya’ with a ruler or something?”

Renji snorted, looking at him with a sort of incredulous amusement, like he hadn’t believed he could smile. Ichigo tried to remember if he’d ever smiled at him before. Renji’d done so to him plenty of times, but he didn’t know if he’d ever smiled back. He didn’t think he had.

“Spanking was definitely a risk,” Renji joked, and for a moment they just grinned at each other, Renji toothily and widely, and Ichigo just a little, almost tentatively, shyly maybe.

“‘Mai done?” Renji finally prompted in that low sexy chest-voice, and stood up.

“Uh, yeah,” he stuttered, aghast, trying to create space between their chests, but this bathroom was so small.

“Sweet.” Renji grinned, then apologetically scratched at the back of his head. “I don’t have anything to give you…”

“I didn’t do it for money,” Ichigo blurted immediately, then shrugged more nonchalantly. “Couldn’t let you fuck up your face any worse.” Renji snorted, smirking, and then looked at Ichigo until he jolted and turned to let Renji out.

He walked Renji to the front door and watched him leave. When Renji went through the doorway, he turned back before going away, grinned widely, and said something like, “Thanks for fixing me up. Super cool a’ you ta’ help me out.” Ichigo wasn’t exactly sure though, because afterwards, he’d flicked Ichigo on the nose and- and _winked,_ and everything was fuzzy after that.

If seeing Renji carrying a little kid’s massive backpack for a few blocks until the kid got to the bus stop, or coaxing a stray to eat his leftovers, or dumping out his pockets to find change for a girl who’d been screwed over by the vending machine – if all that had been akin to planting the seeds of affection, then that nose-flick had been buds sprouting suddenly all along the branches of his heart.

Ichigo was vaguely aware of the door closing, and he walked numbly to his bed and laid his torso face down on it, knees resting on the floor as he let out a long embarrassed sigh, shoving his flushed face into the blankets.

_'Okay, yeah. Yes.'_


	6. Ichigo Waits

_Bitter and dumb, you're my sugarplum._

. . .

 

The next morning, when Grimmjow walked around naked for a full seven minutes, Ichigo didn’t pick shit. He’d learned a bit about how to keep the peace with Grimmjow, and really, the best thing to do after he woke up was to not fucking talk to him until he’d smoked and eaten something – not looking at him also helped; he could be pretty testy sometimes.

So before Ichigo started his ‘what the fuck happened to this bathroom, I can’t believe I’m living with a slob like you, who even uses that many towels?’ tirade, he gave Grimmjow his designated hour of quiet time, in which he would spend the first five minutes stretching, then he’d usually drink his coffee or smoke a cigarette in whatever he had – or hadn’t – been wearing from the night before for three minutes, then he’d shower, shave, and then behave in a relatively docile manner for the next forty minutes while he continued to wake up fully. It actually took him a little while to work himself up into his ‘fuck-yeah, I’m-king-douche-bag’ attitude, and would finally complete his return to assholery after he gelled up his hair, did his eyeliner, and then played a game of _really_ Angry Birds while eating those cheap freeze-bake blueberry waffles straight out of the toaster.

Those docile forty minutes before that daily metamorphosis into the aggressive jerk Ichigo had come to know and tolerate- those forty minutes were some of the few times in which Ichigo found Grimmjow almost likeable, and whenever Grimmjow was giving him shit about god knows what it was _this_ time and Ichigo was seriously ready to try and kill him, he tried to make mental callbacks such as, ‘oh yeah, remember that one time when he _wasn’t_ a complete asshole?’

So around minute thirty-two, Ichigo made Grimmjow clean up the mess he’d left in the bathroom, and he went and did it without complaining. Problem was, in so doing, Grimmjow saw that he’d left the first aid kit out on the counter, and put three and three together pretty quickly with that inconveniently perceptive mind of his. Ichigo fucking hated when he did that.

Grimmjow came out of the bathroom. “Kurosaki, who was in here last night?” he said slowly, squinting at him and getting that intelligent look that Ichigo hated. It seemed like the only time Grimmjow ever used his actually quite sharp mind was when it was to cause Ichigo trouble.

When Ichigo didn’t answer, instead continuing to mix his Ovaltine, Grimmjow made an annoyingly accurate leap of logic, knowingly asking, “Was it Cherry-cola?”

“Who?” He was pretty sure whom that referred to, but…

 _“Abarai,”_ Grimmjow snapped, beginning to get testy with not having his questions answered. The forty minutes must be almost up.

“Oh,” Ichigo replied stupidly, “Yeah.”

That brought it back, and with a sort of terror, he sucked the chocolate residue off his spoon and clutched his mug. _Renji had flirted with him last night._

Grimmjow straightened up in surprise, seeming surprised but pleased. “Woah, nice!” He smirked then, laughing a bit. “I fucking knew it!”

“You didn’t know shit!” Ichigo snapped back, sitting down at the table.

“Bull. You two totally fucked,” Grimmjow said with a sort of perverse delight.

“Nothing happened, Grimm.”

Knowingly, Grimmjow waved his phone at him, eyebrows raised. “Then why’d Twitter explode about you two throwing down at that party? Which, by the way, you never said you were going to a-”

“What?” Ichigo’s head popped up, “Gimme that!” Grimmjow let his phone be snatched, and leaned behind him on his chair, reading over Ichigo’s shoulder with a smug smirk. Ichigo surveyed some poorly spelled tweets and blurry photos from the night before and then handed the phone back with a grimace.

“That’s horseshit, Grimm. I didn’t start anything. That bastard was dying to find an excuse to punch me.”  

“Abarai’s on babe-watch twenty-four seven, Kid,” Grimmjow informed knowingly, plucking it back out of his hands. “He’ll fuck anything hot, I’m telling you – and now he jumps to punch one of his bros after they start shit with you? And comes home with you? What the fuck does _that_ mean then?”

Ichigo flushed, scratching at his nose. “It doesn’t mean anything. He’s hardly said two words ta’ me before yesterday.” Grimmjow whacked him on the shoulder and threw himself down on the other chair, taking a bite of his last waffle, which had been sitting there forgotten. He lit up and talked with his cigarette in his teeth.

“Dude, he totally wants to fuck you.” He removed it and exhaled, smiling with narrowed eyes. " _Con su polla."_

“He can’t wanna’ fuck me,” Ichigo said in a long-suffering exasperated sort of way. “We haven’t even talked.” Which… well, wasn’t true. They’d talked a bit last night, and Renji had seemed to… well, _like_ him. He probably acted that way towards everyone though! Ichigo had evidence that proved that theory true, from all the times he’d watched him in the library! That sounded creepier now…

Grimmjow gave a huff then, throwing a foot onto the table, which had Ichigo grimacing and picking up his chocolate milk, sipping it to have an excuse to stop talking about this. “Look, I know _you_ work that way,” Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was particularly stupid, “but most _normal guys?”_ Ichigo sighed at his narrow and unfair definition of _‘_ _normal guys_ _’_ , but Grimmjow didn’t stop. “We don’t give one fuck or another about _talking,”_ he said, as if the word was disgustingly dumb to even _consider_ _._

“We’re not even friends, he can’t be interested,” Ichigo protested, but it sounded rather weak, as if he didn’t like believing his own words.

“If he ain’t, then why’s-” Grimmjow began with this big grin, leaning towards him almost gloatingly so. Suddenly though, there came a knock at the door.

 _“Joder.”_ Grimmjow tried to sit up, and nearly fell out of his chair getting his leg back on the floor. He put his cigarette out on the table and fanned the smoke towards the window frantically.

Ichigo sighed and got up, opening the door a crack to see – Hisashi? Hisagi? Yeah, that sounded right – Hisagi, who Renji was often seen hanging out with. He was an upperclassman like Renji, and apparently was his roommate. He and Ichigo have never talked personally, but he recognized him anyway from the obscene tattoo.

“… Yeah?” Ichigo answered uncertainly.

“You Kurosaki Ichigo?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m Hisagi Shuuhei?” Ichigo congratulated himself on remembering the name, but otherwise was still kind of suspicious at him being here. “With the student newspaper?” Hisagi prompted again when Ichigo didn’t outwardly respond at all.

“Oh, not this shit,” Grimmjow snapped, forgetting about trying to pretend he wasn’t there, coming towards the door and prying it open from behind Ichigo. “You’re that goddamn journalism major!” Ichigo sighed, expression going deadpan as Grimmjow shouted over his head.  “You take your fucking notepad somewhere else-”

“I’m looking for Abarai Renji?” Hisagi asked Ichigo, who he seemed to have assessed as the most reasonable person in this particular room to talk to. Grimmjow seethed, and Ichigo finally sighed and elbowed him back in his bare chest. Grimmjow retreated a bit, but gave Ichigo a severe look, teeth bared.

“Don’t tell him _shit,_ Ichigo. He’s made me look like a jackass like ten times now!”

“Maybe if you stopped doing ridiculous things like peeing on parking meters, then-”

“Guys, guys, c’mon,” Ichigo stopped them, putting his fingers to the temple of his nose, “Look, what do you need, man?” Looking at Hisagi with a tired grimace, he said, “I’m not interested in talking about what happened last night, if that’s why you’re here. No comment, okay?”

Hisagi grimaced a bit. “After thet fight, Renji didn’t come home, an’ he isn’t answering my calls. I thought he may have come here.”

“…” Ichigo opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, then opened it again. “Why would he have come here?”

“I dunno’,” Hisagi furrowed his brow, seeming to feel stupid now. “He said you were cool like that.”

“See, I _fucking_ told you, Ichigo,” Grimmjow shouted, throwing his laundry around the room in aggravation.

“Grimmjow, will you _shut up_ with that?!” Ichigo shouted behind him, finally starting to get fed up. “Look man, I don’t know where he went,” he told Hisagi. “I don’t even have his number. He an’ I are not friends.”

“He was here though?”

Ichigo paused, hesitant to answer  “. . . Ye-”

Grimmjow interrupted, “Pfff’, so done,” groaning and going to the kitchenette.

“Yeah,” Ichigo finished. “I gave him some bandages and then he left. But I don’t know where he is now.”

“Hm…” Hisagi nodded and then said, “Okay, thanks.” Ichigo nodded back and gave an awkward wave. He closed the door after saying goodbye and then turned around and stared at Grimmjow, who was giving him a frustrated look while frying an egg. Ichigo put his fist on his hip.

“What was that about, Grimm?” he started leadingly, sternly, with a heavy glare.

“It’s about you dodging the facts.” Grimmjow pointed at him with the eggy spatula, grimacing right back.

“What facts?”

“Abarai is smokin’ hot and there’s a fucking blunt in your mouth. So take a fucking drag already.”

“Grimmjow-” Ichigo groaned, but was interrupted again.

“Jump on his dick.” Ichigo didn’t even know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. “Actually, fuck that. _I’ll_ nail you. Whatever shuts you up.”

“Are you on fucking drugs?!” Ichigo screamed, only to have Grimmjow get at him and glare in his face threateningly.

“If I find out that you didn’t say something to him the next time you see him,” he snarled, and Ichigo reeled back in disgust as flecks of saliva hit his face, “I will beat you until your face is so fucked up that you _will_ have no chance with him.”

“You’re insane.”

“That’s my line,” Grimmjow went on, and Ichigo gave a grumpy helpless scowl. “You’ve been acting like a pissy whiny nutjob for weeks now. If I wanted to be around a bitch all the time I woulda’ bought a dog.”

“Oh my god, quit bein’ a dick,” Ichigo snapped incredulously. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m sick of seeing you miserable and pining over this guy when you have a real shot at this,” Grimmjow growled back, “It’s messed up.” He plated his egg and threw the spatula in the sink.

“I’m not pining,” Ichigo pouted stubbornly, drinking his chocolate milk.

“You’re crushing on him so bad that you oughtta’ stamp it on your forehead.” Grimmjow started wolfing his food down. “At least _talk_ to the guy an’ I swear you’ll feel a lot less shitty.”

Ichigo was quiet for a while, then quirked his lip. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you cared.”

Grimmjow gave an offended glare. “Good thing you know better.”

Ichigo just grinned into his mug. This moment. He’ll think back on this moment next time Grimmjow pulled some ridiculous shit.

 

. . .

_You're awful; I love you._


	7. Ichigo Is Doomed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the bilingual kanji jokes. If you don't get it, check jisho.org or google translate.

_I'm standing in front of you. I'm trying to be so cool, everything together, trying to be so cool._

_. . ._

 

The next time Ichigo had that humanities class that he shared with Renji, he felt a bit nervous. More than that, he was conflicted, which was probably why his stomach was so upset. He didn’t know whether he hoped that Renji would show up or _not_ show up – you know, so that he could avoid any weirdness. All the same, Ichigo had this irrational urge to see him again, even if only to see that he was okay.

He was unsure of what kind of awkwardness might ensue between them the next time they saw each other, considering Renji was likely to pretend that nothing was amiss and that _nothing_ had happened over the weekend, despite the whole campus seeming to know about the whole thing. Keigo and a few others had already approached Ichigo about that fight. Who knew how much Renji had been heckled, what with his greater notoriety.

It wasn’t that Ichigo particularly _wanted_ to talk about it with Renji, but pretending nothing had happened after that interlude in the bathroom might… make him feel kinda’ shit. Because deep down, he wanted to be proven wrong, even if it meant Grimmjow would get unbearably smug. He didn’t want to go back to being invisible to Renji, not after that nose-flick. Maybe it had meant nothing much to Renji, but Ichigo’s first full-blown romantic crush had come into bloom, and it was time to wake up and smell the roses. He wanted to be noticed, even if the attention came from having come to fisticuffs with another punk.

He just hoped that if Renji did come, he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of him. Ichigo didn’t know if he’d be able to look him in the face without giving it away. He’d always been a good faker, but he was doubting himself suddenly. God, he really was nervous, wasn’t he.

 _‘These fucking butterflies!_ _’_ Ichigo dug his fist into his stomach. _‘_ _Gah, this is stupid! He’s just a person!’_ This is what he got for having a crush! It was his own fault really. He’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it, but this stupid thing felt like a grave.

So, having worked himself up into a ridiculous and entirely undetectable knot, Ichigo got to class forty minutes early, because the early bird got the worm – the spiky red caterpillar, to be exact. He sat in the empty lecture hall with his elbow on the table and played Monument Valley for ten minutes before the next early bird arrived.

Ichigo picked his head up and looked at the door anxiously, although it manifested in a disgruntled scowl. He knew Renji didn’t come until just before class started, but he couldn’t help that he kept watching the doorway for him. Would Renji show?

Ichigo tapped his foot against his chair leg unhappily. Who cared if he showed anyways, huh? Big jerk didn’t even let his friends know if he was okay. Ichigo frowned. _Was_ he okay? What could he be doing? Maybe couch-surfing at one of those benefit-friends’ houses? The thought both hurt and annoyed him.

 _‘Okay, stop it. You’ve gotta’ get this thing under control.’_ Ichigo scowled at his phone screen. _‘_ _Play it cool, Kurosaki.’_

It was ten minutes before class started when Ichigo heard Renji outside the room, fucking around with some other guys. He straightened in his chair. Renji was here early! When he came into view, he was being noogied and slapped on the back as per usual, and then he finally came in after what felt like forever. Ichigo quickly averted his eyes and put his phone away, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, forcing down all his mad fidgeting.

Renji immediately grinned at him and bounded up the steps, and, seeming unperturbed by Ichigo’s lack of response or even _notice,_ slid into the chair directly next to him. That drew Ichigo’s attention, and his faux casual position grew as stiff as if ice had been injected into every joint. The girl who sat between them usually arrived after Renji did, but Renji had never taken her seat before until today, at least not without asking a simple question of courtesy so that Ichigo had the option of telling him to get the fuck out of his face. This time, there he was, brazen as all hell as he slapped his backpack onto the table and slid around in the chair until he found a comfortable position, leaving the girl the option of sitting on his other side where he usually sat.

Oh no, there would be no pretending to ignore each other today, it seemed.

Ichigo darted his eye up again, glancing at him in as nonchalant a gesture as he could slap together. Renji was openly grinning at him, half-turned in his chair towards him, a direct invitation for conversation.

Renji’s undifferentiated friendliness inexplicably hardened Ichigo’s heart, and after a single look at his glowing bashed-up face, he merely grimaced and faced forward again, because never say die. He’d ignore this dumb love-seed ‘till it grew into a goddamn choking vine. It would be cruel to do otherwise, to entertain any hope that it could flower without any sun. It’d be _stu_ _pid_ of him.

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” Renji prompted eagerly, and Ichigo was weak.

_‘Aw, god damnit.’_

Ichigo discreetly glanced around, judging helplessly whether Renji was addressing someone else, because it was entirely possible and Ichigo didn’t need to look like a complete idiot today. When it was clear that yeah, no, Renji’s definitely talking to _him,_ Ichigo had to take a moment to wonder what the fuck was going on with his life and what the fuck kind of head injury Renji had sustained to make him so openly friendly and familiar with just anybody. They weren’t friends, right? That much was clear. Sure, Ichigo knew that being in a fight together did things to people, but it certainly didn’t mean that the two of them were tight like that.

Feeling suddenly sick, he wondered if Renji felt beholden to him now, after he’d patched him up that night. He knew that he shouldn’t want that kind of pity, he shouldn’t want friendship born out of pity-kindness – he should feel _bad_ that he was just as soft and weak as everybody else was for that way Renji had about him, the way he looked at you with rapt attention when he talked to you and made you feel like the only person in the room, made you feel _special._

Squirming, Ichigo grit his teeth together and didn’t know what to say, feeling stuck, although he knew his face was as solemn and unchanged as a stone edifice.

Renji started to look at him kind of funny when he let the silence go on longer than was socially acceptable. Finally, rather than greeting Renji in return, Ichigo rudely began, “Uhh, Hisagi-san was looking for you.” He rubbed at his hair, muttering, “Came to my dorm and everything and said you’ve been missing classes.” Ichigo locked his feet against the table leg to keep himself from anxiously spinning in his chair.

Renji lounged, sprawled out with his legs spread obscenely wide and his arms over the back of his chair, the very picture of unconcerned chillitude. Ichigo didn’t bother even looking at him while he talked, instead blandly staring forward, down at the professor where he was organizing shit on his desk.

“Ah yeah, that,” Renji sighed uncaringly. “He’s just worried ‘cuz I hocked my Xbox. He probably thinks I have a mob hit on me if I needed money that bad that I sold it.” He paused momentarily and then muttered that he’d saved for that thing for ages. Ichigo flicked his eye over at him to see him pouting a bit and wiggling his jaw.

“Nah man, he was worried that you weren’t back,” Ichigo noted.

“It’s whatever,” he dismissed. “I just crashed at my senpai’s place and then saw a doctor about my teeth.” He gave a grin then. “You’re pretty good, you were right about that splint thing!” He hit Ichigo on the arm with the back of his hand in what was probably a show of solidarity, sort of the way Grimmjow did, but less rough.

Ichigo looked at the spot he’d smacked and then at Renji with a mere flick of his eyes, his scowl deepening a minute amount. He didn’t say anything to invite further conversation, but Renji kept talking, sharing what Ichigo thought was entirely too much considering that they weren’t close.

“It’s just been crazy trying to make up my classwork and everything, y’know?” he said with a tired sigh, rubbing his forehead, and Ichigo relaxed a bit from his forced position of ‘I-don’t-care-about-literally-anything,’ enough that his hands immediately began to shake and fidget with his pencil and his stomach started knotting up.

Fucking hell, Renji was talking to him. This was his chance to be friendly and make Renji like him - don’t say anything dumb, be cool. _Be cool,_ Kurosaki.

“Yeah, I heard the engineering program’s pretty intense.” He looked at Renji a bit that time, turning his head towards him and making a brief flash of eye contact. The color was dark brown, a warm and easy thing to look at despite the harsh shape to Renji’s eyes.

Renji smiled and his eyes did this crinkle thing in the corner that completely softened the sharpness of his profile. Taken aback, Ichigo turned his face forward again, because fuck looking at that shit.

Renji lurched up in his chair and put his elbows on the table as if to follow his averted gaze and turn it back onto himself, but Ichigo didn’t accommodate him. “It’s tough, but the harder it gets, the more I feel like I’m really gonna’ accomplish something when I get outta’ here, y’know?” Renji lost his smile at that and looked forward too, away, which drew a wary glance from Ichigo. “I’m gonna’ do shit. Ain’t gonna’ live no worthless life.”

“Uhh, yeah,” Ichigo supplied awkwardly, staring at him, and it was quiet for a moment in which Ichigo desperately resisted the urge to slap his hand to his forehead. Renji had said something kind of deep and _personal_ to him, and all he could say was ‘yeah?’

Luckily, Renji didn’t seem bothered, rolling with it in that amiable way he had. “What about you, huh?” He leaned on one elbow, facing Ichigo fully, which had Ichigo quickly looking away again. “You probably like helping people if you’re in the med program, right?” He grinned and then patted his bandages. “I kept all my bandaids on like you said, nurse,” he teased with a smile, not a smirk.

“’Pff,” Ichigo spat, rolling his eyes and leaning back again with his arms crossed, swinging in his chair once or twice, but only because he was embarrassingly pleased, albeit a little incredulous to see that Renji hadn’t changed or taken off those disgusting old bandages. They were a few days old now, and the one taped to the side of his head was dark with dried blood and probably crawling with bacteria.

Renji laughed a little more, seemingly at his reaction, and Ichigo peeked up at him with what he hoped was a convincing scowl, because as Renji angled his head, his eyes caught the light and that dark brown lit up and glowed almost red like some kind of chocolate-covered cherry, and shit… it’s pretty.

Pretty, uh… pretty terrifying.

“Uhh… yeah,” he replied, brain squealing as it struggled to go through its back-records after the thousand something instant-replay snapshots of that charming smile had clogged up his system. “Yeah,” he rubbed his brow, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m lookin’ to be an EMT.”

“Nice, nice.” Renji seemed to wriggle in his chair like an excited animal, and then leaned across the table even further on one elbow to try to peer around Ichigo and into his face. Ichigo finally took pity that time and looked at him mildly, frowning.

“So, uh,” Renji began, “I’ve seen you out jogging before.” His grin cracked wider at that, and then wider still when Ichigo’s jaw slackened in flummoxed mortification. From Renji’s tone, he had to wonder if he was being teased. He really didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d had no idea Renji had ever seen him run. Shit, that was a little embarrassing.

“Ah,” he said shortly, clearing his throat. “Uh, I did track in high school, so… I got used to it, I guess.”

 _‘Okay, Ichigo, you sound like a fucking zombie, knock this shit off,_ _’_ he mentally scolded, feeling a sense of panic welling up within him. _‘_ _Why is he still smiling? All you’ve done is act like a punk and an asshole for the entirety of this conversation.’_

“Ah, cool,” Renji said, his grin stretching wider for a moment again. “Explains a lot.” His eyes flicked down and over Ichigo and then back up, unmistakably and directly flirty.

“Explains what?” Ichigo demanded, feeling hot and tingly everywhere Renji had looked at him.

That was when the professor started class, and Ichigo reluctantly turned forward, knowing there was no point in grilling Renji for more answers, because ever since Ichigo had let go of the preconception that Renji was an idiot slacker, he’d found that Renji was surprisingly very dedicated to his schoolwork and paid close attention in class.

During lecture, after Ichigo had finally started to focus on taking notes, Renji did the damn stretch thing he always did after about twenty minutes of diligent studying and hunching over the table. Ichigo didn’t let himself look, because the audible stimuli were already enough to send his imagination running rampant.

This time was different however, since after stretching, Renji slid his notebook towards Ichigo, who questioningly looked up, only to see Renji listening closely to the teacher. Ichigo swallowed and looked down at the heavily creased page, imprinted all over from where Renji had pressed his pencil in. Circled in the bottom corner of the page was a drawing, and if he hadn’t believed before that this guy and Rukia had once been friends, he believed it now.

The drawing was of bunnies like Ichigo always saw Rukia draw, except these weren’t as good as Rukia’s by a long shot – which wasn’t saying that Rukia’s were good either, of course.

One bunny was lying on the ground with a skull and crossbones above it and what looked like a rabbit ghost floating out of its mouth, and the other bunny was standing next to it and making muscley arms. There were a lot of sparkles around its bunny legs. A note next to the picture indicated: ‘The one with the killer legs is you.’

Ichigo stared at it for a long long time, then hesitantly, glancing at Renji a few times, wrote, ‘What’s that one?’ drawing an arrow at the dead rabbit.

‘That’s me,’ Renji wrote back.

 _“Why’re you dead?”_ Ichigo murmured aloud, bewildered and tingling all over.

‘I don’t run **→** I smoke.’

Ichigo snorted, and feeling rather daring, wrote, ‘weak sauce.’

And Renji smiled and smiled and Ichigo felt like he was staring into a solar eclipse. It was beautiful and breathtaking and though it was nature’s work and completely arbitrary, it felt rare and special – and it hurt. It hurt to look at. Couldn’t forget that part.

. . .

Once break rolled around, Renji got up and took his customary walk-around in the hallway, stretching his certified weak-sauce legs – by the way, that was a load of bullshit. He’d seen Renji in running shorts before, and his quads were amazing.

Ichigo noticed that Renji got a bit stir-crazy around the forty-minute mark of class-time. That was a long time to sit still and pay attention for some people. Anyways, after an hour and half, there was always a fifteen minute break halfway through class, and Ichigo took the opportunity to use the restroom and get a drink at the water fountain, then went back to his seat. Renji usually came back right as the lesson began again, but today he followed Ichigo back into the classroom and sat his ass on the tabletop, causing Ichigo to look up from his phone.

He began talking to Ichigo again without even the semblance of a second thought. “Hey man, you wanna’ text or something?” he asked.

Ichigo just stared up at him for a moment or two, his lips parted. “Okay,” he heard himself say.

“Great,” Renji said, grinning and dropping down onto his feet, digging his phone out of his pants, which momentarily exposed his stomach and his plaid boxers and the thick leather belt holding up his jeans. “Gimme’ your number and I’ll shoot you a message later.”

They told each other the numbers, and Ichigo numbly asked about Renji’s name spelling, staring at his phone screen in disbelief. He was putting Renji into his contacts – this all felt very surreal.

“Which characters do you spell that with?” He took a glance up. “‘Ren’ like in ‘renzoku?’ Or… like ‘lotus?’”

“‘Ren’ like in ‘renai,’” Renji returned with a smirk, giving him a suggestive look that was clearly meant to make him squirm. Ichigo tried not to blush, fingers fumbling as he typed in ‘koi’ and then ‘tsugi’ and stared at the name for a moment and tried not to think about the dirty way Renji had insinuated that his name meant he was always looking for his next love affair.

Renji then asked about his name spelling, and to Ichigo’s great surprise, he didn’t say anything about strawberries. “And your ‘go’ isn’t ‘word,’ it’s… the ‘go’ in ‘condom?’”

“‘Go’ in ‘protect!’” Ichigo sputtered indignantly. There was no way in hell he was going down as Ichi-gomu in Renji’s contacts! God, he’s glad Grimmjow had never made that connection. That was way worse than being called a strawberry!

“Hah, I’m just yankin’ ya’,” Renji teased. Then he gave Ichigo a grin and asked, “So, uh, what’re your hobbies?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know, what do you like to do?” he prompted after Ichigo just stared at him dumbly.

The lecture started again at that point, and Renji shrugged and sat back down.

Ichigo had figured that this weird day of conversation was over, and once the lesson was finished, he got his stuff together and prepared to leave. He purposefully stalled, but it soon became obvious that Renji was doing the same, hanging back deliberately to wait for him.

Renji slung his backpack on and followed Ichigo out of the room, matching his strides. Ichigo pretended not to notice, that is, until Renji asked again, “So whatta’ you do in your spare time?”

“Ah…” His mind blanked on everything he ever did, distracted by the fact that Renji had bothered to continue this conversation and was actively following him. Finally he said, “I mostly just study and go to the park to run.” He scratched his head and then finished lamely, “I dunno’.”

“Lotta’ free time then?” Renji surmised.

“I guess.” Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t really hung out with anyone much in a long time – Rukia notwithstanding of course. It had been like that ever since Chad had gone to a different college. Keigo asked him a lot, but he could be exhausting. Day to day, Ichigo didn’t do much of anything really, other than school.

“Great.” Renji beamed, “Awesome!”

For a moment, Ichigo almost thought they’d just made plans or something without him realizing what was happening, but before he could figure out what was going on, Renji started heading off with a hand raised. “I’ll see you later.”

Ichigo stared after him for a moment, bewildered. Weird. Fucking weird.

Later when he was at home that afternoon, he had his head shoved on his bed and was moaning to himself, because all that time spent covertly watching Renji around campus, and all the energy used up correcting his misconceptions about him, and all the effort used to keep his interest to himself, and let’s not forget all the inconvenient boners – all of that had been this far-off thing based on speculation and fantasy and hopeful thinking. Things had changed since then. Things had gotten _real._

Renji had flirted with him several times now and had given him his phone number, an obvious extension of a hand of friendship. Things had _definitely_ changed. What _hadn’t_ changed was Ichigo and his fucking awkward… _everything._

What the hell had he gotten himself into? What did he do now? He wasn’t cool. He wasn't interesting. He couldn’t just _talk_ to Renji. If he did, Renji would realize that he was boring…

“I’m a fucking loser, Grimm,” Ichigo called sadly into his pillow.

“What’s new,” Grimmjow replied flatly as if nothing was amiss, chewing a huge wad of tobacco like it was tough steak.

“No really,” Ichigo said in dismay, lifting his head up. “I act like I’m fucking _braindead_ when I’m around him.” He sighed, rolling himself onto his back, an arm strewn across his forehead. “I gotta’ get ridda’ this thing,” he said, “It’s screwing up my life.”

Grimmjow didn’t look at him, but he did move his headset off one ear. “Look Ichigo, I’m gonna’ hit you with the hard facts a’ life.” Grimmjow did look at him then, just for a minute, a harsh glare going his way. “You’re bein’ a faggotty pussy, an’ worse than that, you’re bein’ a _chump.”_ Ichigo rolled himself back over and hugged his pillow to his face, scowling.

Grimmjow ranted then, growing angrier as he listed things off, “You know he’s down for guys. You know he’s at least not a complete asshole. You’re in the same _class_ for crying out loud, what’s it gonna’ _take?”_ Ichigo sighed roughly and lifted up onto his elbows. Grimmjow fully turned towards him again, sufficiently distracted from his game. “No really, what’s it gonna’ fuckin’ take for you to decide you’re tired a’ bein’ alone, huh? What’s he gotta’ _do?_ ”

Ichigo stuck his lip out, having been ready to protest before, but his words having since died. He let his head drop onto the bed and wanted to die. He’s never going to get rid of this crush, he’s never going to be able to confess, and Renji doesn’t like him – and if by some miracle he did, he’d soon realize Ichigo wasn’t fun or interesting and would move off. Ichigo was just doomed to suffer. Grimmjow’s wrong. It’s way more complicated than it sounds.

“You’re seriously never gonna’ have a better chance, Kurosaki. If you think you wanna’ wait for the right time or some shit, lemme’ tell you, _there is no right time.”_ In response, Ichigo merely lay there in petulant miserable silence.

“Kurosaki, it’s not _hard._ Just ask him out, an’ then you’ll know. If he says ‘hell yeah,’ great. If he says ‘fuck no,’ then whatever.”

“… You think?” Ichigo picked his head up from his bed and looked over at Grimmjow, who was facing away from him, sprawled across the couch, but still visible from his bright head on one side, his feet on the other, and one elbow up in the middle.

“Yes,” Grimmjow said plainly, as if it were stupidly obvious, “It’s _that_ easy.”

Ichigo thought this over for some time, resting his chin on his forearm. It was quiet hour, which meant Grimmjow had started playing video games to pass the time – which by extension meant that the RA had pounded on their door several times to get Grimmjow to shut up screaming at their TV, because there’s no such thing as quiet Black Ops for Grimmjow.

Ichigo contemplated the advice. It was hard to pick up on, but he recognized that this was Grimmjow being nice and supportive. Ichigo was still learning to parse it, because it was often disguised by slurs, shaming, and a really surly attitude, but that was it with Grimmjow, because the guy _had no feelings,_ remember?

Judging based on whether or not he was smiling didn’t help either, because a smile on that guy never meant anything good for anyone. In fact, Ichigo had come to interpret Grimmjow smiling as a display of aggression rather than happiness.

Well, if that was Grimmjow’s _nice_ advice, then maybe there was something to be considered there.

Ichigo frowned and put his head back down and shoved his phone under his pillow so that he couldn’t keep checking it for messages – not before putting it on the highest volume possible of course.

He hoped Renji would call. 


	8. Ichigo On the Phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: annoying text convo images

Renji didn’t text for three agonizing days.

Ichigo almost messaged him twice in the interim to ask him to hang out, or just to talk, but then figured Renji hadn’t texted because he was probably busy. Instead, Ichigo bit his nails down and ate a lot of chocolate donut holes and waited for Renji to text first.

He waited. Checked his phone, waited. Napped, waited. Browsed the internet, _waited_. 

After two and a half days, he gave up hope on waiting for Renji to call and miserably went about his business, trying not to be too disappointed.

He only stopped moping because he’d rather Grimmjow didn’t get it in his head to annoy him as a distraction. Whenever Ichigo got kind of stagnant and depressed for more than a few days – because, y’know, it happened – and Grimmjow thought he needed some cheering up, he’d try to irritate him; his favorite tactic was to jack off in front of him. Ichigo fucking hated when he did that.

Really though, Ichigo felt kind of dumb now for even hoping. What, he'd actually expected Renji to call? He'd really thought that might  _happen?_   Of course Renji wasn't going to call him. Why would he.

By day three, Ichigo had stopped bothering with checking for a missed message, because at this point it was getting pathetic. But of course, as he often was, Ichigo turned out to be wrong. 

It seemed he'd given up hope prematurely, because Renji _did_ message.

When he finally did so, Ichigo was in the shower with his phone resting on the sink playing Skrillex so that Grimmjow wouldn’t hear him rubbing one out. Grimmjow hated Skrillex and would leave him alone when he was playing it, meaning Ichigo had a free pass to whack off, because even if Grimmjow didn’t feel like leaving the house, he’d put on his noise-cancelling headset.

Ichigo was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, and was just letting out a relieved sigh, when he heard his phone chime, which interrupted the music momentarily. He popped the shower door open an inch and glanced at it just in time to see the screen go black after revealing his newest notification.

It only takes the brain thirteen milliseconds to recognize a word, but it took much longer for the thought to fully register, and although only about an instant actually passed, it felt like an eternity before Ichigo realized that he'd gotten a new message from Renji.

He had a minor spazz attack and knocked a ton of shit onto the floor in the shower as he threw the glass door open – all of which was obscenely loud and probably sounded like he’d just fallen into a microsleep, slipped, and broken his fucking spine.

He scrambled behind him to shut the water off, even though he’d already soaked the floor, and had his phone gripped in his hand, his wet thumb struggling to open the lock screen. Holy shit, Renji had really messaged him!

 _“Yo,_ the fuck?!”

Grimmjow kicked the door to the bathroom once, twice, breaking the lock open. It hit the opposite wall and then swung slowly, coming to a stop at Grimmjow’s arm as he stared at Ichigo, who stood there soaked and clutching his phone. “You’re not dead,” Grimmjow noted confusedly.

“Quiet hour,” they heard from a knock on the door. They both looked at each other for a second with an incredulous eyebrow raise. Grimmjow then sucked his teeth and turned, stomping towards the door. “Do you just stand outside our door or something?” he shouted.

Ichigo wiped his phone with a handtowel and tapped the power button, letting the screen light up to prove to himself that no, he hadn’t been mistaken. He had a new message from Renji. The excitement and apprehension that welled up in his stomach was almost unbearable, and he had to bite his lips viciously to keep from smiling like a loon.

Grimmjow came back to the doorway, leaning an arm on the doorframe. “Sup,” he demanded loudly, looking at him as if wondering whether he’d gone batshit insane, eyes narrowed, mouth open.

“He texted back,” Ichigo burst, without even a thought for being mysterious, his entire body numb with shock.

“Who?” Grimmjow squinted a little.

“Renji.”

Grimmjow gave a tight grin then. “Nice!” He smacked Ichigo on the shoulder. “Now cover your ass!” he said in the same congratulatory tone, then snapping, “an’ don’t do that shit again.” The couch was on the ground and Grimmjow’s video game lay abandoned.

Planning to come back and clean the bathroom later, Ichigo walked out with his towel and put on his change of clothes while Grimmjow fixed the living room and got back to his game. Ichigo finally sat on his bed in his sweats, a towel over his wet hair, and with butterflies in his stomach, viewed Renji’s message.

 

 

Ichigo, so excited that he was hardly able to think straight – certainly not able to overthink things enough that he'd wonder if messaging back too quickly would seem desperate – immediately answered.

 

 

He stared at his phone screen for a full thirty seconds, only stopping when a drop of water dripped out of his bangs and onto the glass of his phone. After scrubbing it away, Ichigo figured he might not get an answer for awhile, and was about to lay back in bed with his towel under him and maybe watch some baby animal videos to unwind.

Before he could, suddenly the ‘typing’ bubble popped up, and he stopped breathing, gripping his phone so hard that it made that worrying rainbow effect appear under the screen.

 

 

Another message immediately followed the first:

 

 

 

Ichigo leapt off his bed and began looking around for his backpack, ripping his folders out almost in a frenzy.

 

 

It felt silly to feel so good over such a small thing, but all the same, Ichigo looked at that one for a long time and tried not to smile, rubbing his thumb on the home button.

He then found the paper, took a photo of it, and sent it.

 

 

After that, there was a long pause. Renji had been replying immediately before, but then a full minute went by with _nothing._

Ichigo switched to his feed and skimmed some news articles, but kept pulling his notifications panel down to check if Renji had answered. By the time ten whole minutes had passed, Ichigo set his phone between his legs and tugged on the ends of the towel frustratedly, covering his head with it and yanking. He glared down at the screen anxiously.

 _‘Was that it?!’_ he wondered. 

His distress was occasionally interrupted by Grimmjow cursing at his teammates, who’d apparently gotten mad at him for ‘bailing’ during a raid, which prompted him to slew a long string of creative bilingual profanity about it being his dumb roommate’s fault for distracting him – which Ichigo didn’t understand, because that had happened like twenty minutes ago now?

Ichigo had his phone on full volume so that he couldn’t possibly miss a text, but still he kept checking in case he’d missed one. After a few more minutes he’d calmed down a bit and was watching a video of a Venus fly trap eat a worm - when his phone pinged, he dropped it on his foot in an embarrassing fumble of surprise.

"Shit," he cursed, picking it up.

 

 

Ichigo read it over and over, so many times in fact that he blinked in surprise when he received another message.

 

 

Feeling considerably relieved, if maybe a little disappointed that they couldn’t talk anymore for now, Ichigo surmised that Renji had been texting during class or something.

 

 

The next reply was immediate, which Ichigo was glad for, because as it happens, having a crush _sucked,_ and waiting longer than even _one minute_  for an answer seemed like agony.

 

 

Ichigo frowned lightly at that, but didn't think on it too much.

 

 

Ichigo lay back on his bed and looked at the ceiling, phone on his stomach. He pulled the towel on his head harder, and part of it covered his eyes and nose. He tugged it tight and pressed his lips together, biting them viciously.

_'Stop it. Just stop.'_

“Go suck a dick, Gilga.” Grimmjow turned off his game, and then stood. “Hey, loser. Hangout-time.”

Ichigo didn’t move, figuring that he just meant Mad Libs. As much as Grimmjow pretended to hate being around him, he still would sometimes make him play games with him. Well, _‘made’_ was a strong word. It was fun really. They'd hold in a mouthful of soda as they did the Mad Libs and try not to laugh and spill the soda out. They had a game night too, and though it had never been acknowledged as such or marked on a calendar, Grimmjow would get really mad if Ichigo made other plans on that night. Really, for how much Grimmjow talked shit about Ichigo being no fun and that his real friends weren’t as lame, he was a pathetic liar.

“Get your jacket.”

“What? No way,” Ichigo refused flatly, holding his pillow hard, letting his towel completely cover his top half, along with his head, which was a mistake, because Grimmjow stalked over to him and kicked him across the ass roughly.

“Get up!”

“No, go hang out with D. Roy and them, since they’re so much more fun,” Ichigo mumbled childishly, even though he knew it was futile to try and get Grimmjow to admit that he’d rather be with _him._

“Kurosaki, we’re going,” Grimmjow growled threateningly, irritated.

“I’m already comfortable,” Ichigo complained, but sat up. Grimmjow knew he’d won at that point, and walked away to get his stuff.

“C’mon, hangout. Get up.”

Sometimes Ichigo wondered how Grimmjow could even pretend that he didn’t care when he did shit like that, but at this point, Ichigo had accepted that it was just how he was. Treat Ichigo like dirt all morning and then pester him to go clubbing, then treat him like shit some more if he said no: that was Grimm’s MO.

Ichigo figured that Grimmjow’s disappointment and insecurity just manifested in violent fits followed by sulking. Sometimes it made Ichigo feel really bad, because he knew that beneath the horrible shitty way Grimmjow treated everyone, he was just really lonely. It wasn’t an excuse for Grimmjow to act the way he did, but all the same, Ichigo still felt bad sometimes, because he knew that Grimmjow didn’t have anyone else. Not really. He didn’t like to think about it, but he knew that he was Grimmjow’s only friend.

Well … Grimmjow _had_ given him some advice the other day… Yeah, okay, fine.

Ichigo huffed and peeled himself off the bed with a defeated groan, deciding to let Grimmjow have his way this time. It probably wouldn’t be a club, considering it wasn’t even noon yet.

Ichigo changed out of his sweats, and surprise-surprise, Grimmjow took him to the motorshow that he’d been talking about for literally a month now. Apparently Grimmjow’s car was already down there, and although Ichigo still wished he was back home in his bed instead of here with all these middle-aged dudes and rich college kids and their hotrods, and even though Grimmjow wasn’t smiling, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret coming with him.

. . .

After they got back to campus after far too much shittalk and three near-fistfights, and were walking down to the quad, Grimmjow kept saying shit like ‘this way,’ seeming to be leading him somewhere. Ichigo had no idea what they were doing, but still just followed, hands in his pockets, blandly staring around at the trees and enjoying the weather.

“Now this way,” Grimmjow said shortly, looked up again to check their direction, and then noted, “I fucked that guy,” as he occasionally did whenever they were out, pointing out a dude walking by in the distance. Ichigo wasn’t distracted by it anymore, having grown used to it.

“This way.” Ichigo followed again as they took a seemingly random turn. “Close by,” Grimmjow mumbled, glancing at his phone again.

Finally, Ichigo decided to bite. “What are you doing?” He leaned close, peeking at Grimmjow’s screen, seeing him looking at what looked like a dating app. Head popping up brightly, Ichigo asked, “Is that Grindr? You get any dates yet?”

“There he is,” Grimmjow said, instead of answering him, and Ichigo looked at him confusedly until he saw Grimmjow pointing off into the distance. Ichigo followed the gesture to see Renji walking by with his headphones on, a couple other dudes with him. He was smiling at a girl that was with them too. “Go say something.”

“What? No.” Ichigo straightened in shock, every alarm bell in his body going off loudly, sirens blaring, lights flashing, bells clanging. He knew exactly what Grimmjow was planning and why he'd dragged him out here now, and he was _not amused._ Maybe he was trying to help in his own way, but Ichigo wasn't mentally prepared for this kind of thing.

Shit, if they don't leave, he was going to embarrass himself in front of Renji and Grimmjow was going to see it. Fuck, Ichigo wasn't in the mood for this.

"Look, c'mon," Grimmjow prodded, pointing again towards Renji as if to say 'go get 'im,' and Ichigo averted eye contact immediately, turning towards Grimmjow with his head down and shoulders hunched.

"No."

“Why not?” Grimmjow said with a confused scoff, baffled, “Here’s your chance!”

“It’s not the right time…” Ichigo bit his lip.

“Dude, I’m gonna’ say something.”

“What?” Ichigo’s head popped up to see Grimmjow looking over there, his heart dropping. “No. Grimm, no, shut up,” he hissed, grabbing him and shaking him by the arm. However, before Grimmjow could embarrass him, Renji looked up on his own and looked right at them, _at Ichigo._

Grimmjow straightened up and started slapping at Ichigo’s arm, shaking him around. “Dude, he’s looking this way!”

“No, he’s not,” Ichigo snapped. He clearly was.

Renji stopped walking and waved to Ichigo, grinning. Figuring it was too late to escape, Ichigo hesitantly held up a hand in return, doing his grimace of a smile attempt. To his horror, Renji started walking towards them.

“Dude, now’s your chance, he’s coming this way,” Grimmjow said excitedly, turning to Ichigo and demanding in a hurried but helpful tone, “Do the sexy face!”

“Shut up, don’t embarrass me,” Ichigo snarled desperately.

“Yeah, like that,” Grimmjow exclaimed, giving a thumbs-up and stepping back a bit, “don’t change anything. He's gonna' be all over you in no time. Two days tops before you fuck.”

 _“Shut up,”_ he hissed, and by then Renji was too close for him to say anything more without being heard, and for a second he didn't know what to do, just standing there rigidly. Ichigo was kind of an idiot around Renji in the first place, but Grimmjow being there while Renji was also there made him feel twice as nervous. He didn’t want Grimmjow to see how weird he got or laugh at him or ruin shit with his attitude.

As Renji approached, Ichigo slackened his stance and shoved his hands in his pockets to try and look normal, but ended up doing an alarmingly accurate impression of Grimmjow’s arrogant slouch. Renji walked the last few steps up to them where they stood under a sun-dappled tree just off the path, and Ichigo saw that Renji had these party-shield sunglasses on his forehead that were made with reflective orange plastic and reminded Ichigo of those futuristic laser-vision visors.

“Yo, it’s Koroshiya Ichi!” Renji greeted with a big grin, and Ichigo felt weak in the knees and warm all over.

In an equal opposite reaction, Grimmjow bristled indignantly, and Ichigo took a moment to inwardly sigh and begrudgingly appreciate that although Grimmjow _said_ he wanted him to get fucked a few times and have his heart broken, the guy was a contradictory asshole and was really just trying to set him up with a nice guy. If that weren’t true, there was no way Grimmjow would be this protective of him.

Protective, yes, technically. Not really in a loving way, but in a ‘hey, only _I_ get to be an asshole to him’ way. Well, who knows… that could just be coming from his territorial jungle mind, not from a place of care.

 _“Kurosaki Ichigo,”_ Grimmjow corrected furiously, “Get a guy’s name right, dumbass.”

Renji seemed affronted for a second that someone could be so rude to a total stranger, and Ichigo sighed, putting his hand to his eyes. “No, Grimm,” he said tiredly, then looked to Renji with narrowed eyes. “Who do you think you are truncating my name to compare me to a psychologically disturbed and homicidal sadist?”

Renji brightened up to see that at least one of them had gotten the well-meant joke. If Grimmjow hadn’t been there to bare his teeth at Renji as if to scare him off, Ichigo might have even laughed at the pun.

“A clever bastard, that’s who,” Renji laughed, then grinning at him, his sunglasses flashing on his forehead. “Besides,” he paused, looking at Ichigo, “I think he was just misunderstood.” Ichigo didn’t quite know what to say for a second.

“Pff’,” Grimmjow spat at that, recoiling like a cat who’d had its nose tapped.

“Anyway,” Renji said, “Thanks for helping me out,” referencing Ichigo sending him that homework thing earlier. Then he looked at Grimmjow. “Hey. Abarai Renji.”

“’Sup,” Grimmjow replied, eyes narrowed, chin thrown up, but seeming pacified into a state of suspicion rather than open hostility.

“Well, just wanted’a’ say thanks,” Renji said to Ichigo. “You saved my ass.”

“Uh, no prob,” Ichigo answered, slightly surprised.

Renji grinned and took a step back. “I’d stay and hang, but I’m heading to a seminar with some friends, an’ it looks like, uh…” His body completely stalled, but his eyes flicked up to Grimmjow for a moment, and his mouth shut with a meaningful raise of his eyebrows. He smiled somewhat tightly and flicked his shades down. “Anyway, I’ll catcha’ later, Ichigo.”

“Yeah sure.” He watched Renji walk off. Okay, that had been kind of weird. He turned back around, and mumbled to himself, “huh.” They kept walking, much more slowly as Ichigo was lost in deliriously nervous and excited thoughts.

That hadn't gone half-bad! That might've been their best interaction to date, actually!

He’d only noticed that Grimmjow had been quiet for some time when he finally talked again. Ichigo looked up when he grunted, only to see that Grimmjow was staring behind them with that squinting look he did when he was thinking. “… I think there’s something wrong with that guy,” he noted confusedly.

“What?” Ichigo frowned.

“I mean, you’re all,” Grimmjow gestured to Ichigo, “… but he just… Yanno’?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Ichigo said calmly, looking forwards and replaying Renji’s sweet grin and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle under the dappled sunlight coming through the leaves.

“He’s a _fuckin’ weirdo_ _,”_ Grimmjow then replied in a sort of scathing and hushed shout.

“Weirdo?” Ichigo repeated harshly, looking up at him as they walked, seeing Grimmjow’s brows pushed together. “Why?”

“He’s on Grinder and fucking _Hornet_ _,_ an’ it’s obvious that –” Ichigo looked behind them and watched Renji go, and Grimmjow’s words faded out for a second, only tuning back in when Grimmjow’s voice rose practically to a shriek, “-and you’re right here, givin' him those _eyes,_ but he still didn’t do _anything!”_ He threw his arms forward, palms up. _“_ _Weirdo!_ Who just-?!” He looked at Ichigo again for validation of the weirdness he saw going on. “You know?”

“Sure, sure,” Ichigo nodded absently, still watching Renji go, and then did a doubletake, scowling harshly at Grimmjow when he put it together. “Grimm, what did you just do?”

“What?” Grimmjow said innocently, looking offended that he was being accused of something.

_“Grimmjow.”_

“What? _Nothing,”_ he protested, but Ichigo just glared at him, fed up. Grimmjow had done something to make Renji leave – he’d thought there had been something weird about how Renji had just stopped talking like that all of a sudden and left.

“I’ve fucking had it with your alpha male bullshit.”

“What, I didn’t think he’d quail like that!”

“Unbelievable,” Ichigo deadpanned, eyes narrowed in frustration.

Although Grimmjow was pissed at Ichigo or _about_ to be at any given time, he fucking hated it when Ichigo got mad at _him_ for a change, and when Ichigo refused to look at him, he growled. Ichigo didn’t stop walking even though Grimmjow tried to step in front of him. “It’s not my fault the guy’s a fucking pussy!” Grimmjow protested, as if that was a logical counterpoint in an argument.

“You’re the worst.”

Grimmjow snorted, but was clearly ruffled from the way he seemed to be almost on the verge of throttling him for a second, and then immediately acted like he didn’t even care, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and walking next to him without looking at him. “Whatever, he’ll come back,” he said confidently.

“No, he won’t.”

“Sure he will!”

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that,” Ichigo grumbled.

Grimmjow, upset at having to argue the same point again, lost his cool and burst out with, “Are you fucking serious, who w-!” He went abruptly silent.

Ichigo quirked his lip. “What was that?”

“Shut up!” Grimmjow whacked him on the head, but Ichigo quirked a tiny smug smile, which made Grimmjow swell and sputter with rage and hit him again, and that was it – Ichigo hit him back, and oh look, they were fighting in public again, because you don’t just hit Grimmjow and walk away.

Ah well, they’d gone a staggering forty-four days without incident, but now they were getting reacquainted with campus security and explaining the disruption, and as they walked back to the dorm in a tense silence, Grimmjow spat, “Go fuck yourself on a cactus, you pig-faced little bastard,” but Ichigo was still smirking a little and the words Grimmjow had almost admitted out loud were glowing in his heart.


	9. Ichigo Gives Up

_So if I have a chance, could you let me know?_

_. . ._

 

Things had been going a little strangely that week. For one, Ichigo was legitimately considering whether he should just make a move, and how.

He’d gotten over his embarrassment mostly, and wasn’t particularly anxious about the asking part – it was just a simple question, and the worst Renji could do was say ‘no,’ or maybe if he was feeling particularly cruel, he might laugh and make fun of him a little, but Ichigo’s ego would recover and he’d move on; he’d put this crush to rest.

No, Ichigo’s point of contention was mostly just Renji’s supposed stud reputation and how open he might be to a relationship, and whether he actually knew Renji well enough to want to date him in the first place.

Ichigo was a virgin, and if he was brutally honest, he'd prefer that his first time not be an ‘only’ time, y’know?

Provided that Renji even noticed him enough to take an interest, given that he was kind of a playboy, Ichigo would like for them to at least be dating if they were going to end up...  _doing it._

The longer he thought about it though, while he’d be disappointed if Renji wasn’t open to any commitment and only wanted to have some fun… well, who didn’t like fun? A roll in the sack was starting to look not so bad the longer Grimmjow pushed Ichigo to just go for it. That wasn’t a _bad thing_ in itself, anyways, having a one-night stand.

Except it _was_ , because Ichigo was emotionally compromised.

He couldn’t ignore those little buds that had ripped their way through his flesh as easily as through topsoil. He had to consider those _buds_ in all of this, because they were fragile and new and… and _important._

Fuck, he liked Renji – he did, okay?

Renji was frustrating and he made Ichigo feel incredibly stupid, but most of that was rooted in Ichigo’s confused affections rather than Renji actually being a jerk. The point was, Ichigo would secretly really enjoy having Renji’s attention, he'd like to be the one who got all of Renji's love.

He could always ask Renji out. Renji might say yes. It might turn out in Ichigo’s favor, maybe. If he was willing to try, if he was willing to go for it, maybe Renji might just give him a chance.

 _Could_ and _maybe_ played a large part in his considerations. The real world sucked by comparison.

Ichigo didn’t know how much longer he could keep up his uncaring jerk act. He thought that maybe… yeah, he could go for it. He'll work up the courage and see if Renji will accept him. He just wanted the highest chance possible that if Renji took him up on the offer, that it would result in a date rather than losing his virginity behind a dumpster.

Ichigo furrowed his brow, feeling pathetic. No… maybe he should work on building a closer friendship first before making an advance. If he could get Renji to like him a bit, he might be less inclined to throw him away like garbage immediately after hooking up, if they did.

Again, Ichigo considered whether he was thinking about all of this too hard and if he should just take a dive, because would hooking up be so bad? He sure would be setting the bar high, starting with Renji…

But all of this was assuming that Renji was even interested. It wasn’t a given that Renji wanted to sleep with him in the first place, or that he even _liked_ Ichigo.

He had to stop thinking about it. He’d been listening to Grimmjow for too long. He shouldn't assume the worst about Renji. Renji's been nothing but nice to him. Not all nice behavior was motivated by a desire for sex. Renji might just-

Ichigo’s cheek suddenly cramped, and he sat back at his desk, rubbing his temples and flexing his jaw until it cracked.

Fuck… Ah, fuck, screw all of this. He should probably just leave it.

So basically, he hadn’t decided what to do, and even if he _had_ come to a decision, he wouldn’t have been able to act on it, because Renji had been mostly unavailable this week. He’d been serious and distant in class, and hadn’t texted Ichigo other than mentioning that he was working on a term paper.

It was just a stark reminder that they weren’t close, they weren’t even friends, they weren’t anything. Ichigo might as well be pining for a celebrity for how much he actually knew of Renji and how much of a chance he had with him.

He had to forget about this whole thing. He had to stay away from Renji until this stupid thing went away.

So Ichigo didn’t make any effort to bother Renji, and when Renji didn’t talk to him much in their next class period together past smiling tiredly at him when he sat down, Ichigo didn’t push. Ichigo didn’t speak to him, but was still disappointed when Renji didn’t speak to him either. He’d irrationally hoped that maybe Renji would keep reaching out like before no matter how rude Ichigo was, but… _nothing._

Perhaps he’d just imagined the whole thing? He knew that Renji’s behavior and personality were just naturally charming and flirtatious. Maybe Ichigo had just taken it personally when it hadn’t been meant that way.

Ichigo glanced at Renji one last time with a suppressed sigh of disappointment when Renji continued to act completely oblivious to his existence.

… Maybe they hadn’t gotten closer as much as Ichigo had thought.

Once class was over, Ichigo put his headphones in and got his stuff together, and prepared to try and say a quick ‘bye’ to Renji as he stood up to go, but out of the blue, Renji started talking to him.

Ichigo looked up, pausing with putting his folders away in his bag. He took his headphones back out and glanced around, but everyone else seemed occupied. No, Renji was for sure talking to _him._

“Hey, there’s a river cleanup this weekend. You wanna’ come to that?”

Ichigo just kind of stared for a moment or two, his brain trying to dredge up an alternative interpretation, because it didn’t immediately compute that Renji had invited him somewhere. He’d been sure that there could be no possible way that-

Renji prompted him again when Ichigo didn’t answer, adding, “We can hang out after.”

That sick sad disappointed feeling in his stomach uncoiled, as easily as water going down a drain. “Ahh, sure, yeah,” he replied, not completely able to eliminate the pleased surprise from his voice.

“Great.” Renji honest-to-god _lit up;_ there was no mistaking it, and Ichigo started to wonder if he’d jumped the gun and doubted himself again like with the whole waiting-for-Renji-to-call thing. It really did seem like Renji liked him and wanted to hang out with him. Just look how happy he seemed now that Ichigo had agreed. “I’ll text you the deets later.”

He slapped at his pockets and grimaced apologetically. “I had some brochures, but I gave the last one away earlier.”

“That’s cool,” Ichigo said quickly, shaking his head. Renji grinned gratefully, letting out a sigh.

“I’ve been busting my ass all week tryin’a’ get ahead so I can slack off this weekend and go to this,” he shared, and Ichigo had to wonder how volunteering to help the neighborhood by dredging the river was _slacking,_ but had to chalk it up as just another mysterious facet to Renji’s strangely ‘kind-nice-maybe-a-jerk?’ personality.

“It’s gonna’ be awesome,” Renji bubbled, grinning with clear enthusiasm, like a little boy ready to frog-hunt. “They drag the weirdest shit outta’ that swamp.”

“Mm,” Ichigo acknowledged, which had Renji pausing, his smile fading as he looked Ichigo over more closely. Immediately alarmed, Ichigo began sweating nervously. Had Renji finally gotten fed up with his socially awkward bored-sounding responses? Had he done something wrong?

“I mean…” Renji cleared his throat, seeming crestfallen but trying to hide it as he quickly said, “I don’t mean ta’ be pushy or anything…” He seemed to flounder for a minute and then assured, “If it sounds lame, then-”

“No!” Ichigo blurted in a panic, then swallowed and got it back under control when Renji stopped short, eyes wide in surprise, lips pursed. “Sounds fun,” he said calmly with a shoulder shrug.

“Cool,” Renji replied with an amused half-grin and a scrunch of his eyebrows, like he thought Ichigo was weird, but still funny, maybe even cute. “Well, uh, we haven’t hung out at all, and this is when my free time is this weekend, so…”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said in response to his explanation. “Sure, yeah, I get it.” Renji’s amused grin spread.

“So then, I guess I’ll see you there.”

Ichigo nodded and watched as Renji picked his backpack up. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

“Great. Later!” Renji waved and headed off with a spring in his step like always, but maybe with a little extra buoyance.

Ichigo watched him go helplessly for a moment, then turned away and walked off. He pulled on his bangs and headed for the dorms.

So much for staying away from him.


	10. Ichigo Miscalculates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just went on vacay in japan!! Trip of a lifetime, it was amazing, I loved it. Anyway, haven't adjusted to the time change yet and have not slept tonight, so am posting at 7 am. Please enjoy.

Ichigo cleared his plans for the day so he could go to the river cleanup, because fuck his other responsibilities. If Renji had actually invited him somewhere – _Renji!_ – like _hell_ he wasn’t going to go, even if it meant getting filthy and digging around in fucking nasty water.

He’d actually told some other people about it, because Renji had mentioned that he was trying to get as many people to come as possible – which made Ichigo feel a little less special, but fuck it, Renji had thought to invite him, that meant _something,_ right?

Anyways, Orihime and Tatsuki ended up coming with him. He’d tried to get Rukia too, but she had been busy. He’d called her as usual and had mentioned, “Renji invited me to a river cleanup. You free?”

“Renji?”

“Yeah,” he’d clarified, and she’d been quiet for a minute, before uncomfortably replying.

“I’m actually busy, Ichigo,” she’d explained, and Ichigo had frowned in disappointment. “But ask me again.”

“Okay, no prob.”

Orihime had already been going apparently, but had happily agreed to come with him, and Tatsuki also decided to come along. They were going to meet up and eat first. Ichigo was looking forward to it like he hadn’t looked forward to anything in living memory.

For a while he'd thought staying away from Renji was the best idea, but he’d changed his mind completely. He was the most excited he thinks he's ever been. He didn’t know how he’d waited for the weekend to come around without peeling off his own skin with his fingernails.

He went downtown at about ten thirty, parked in a free spot, and met up with Tatsuki and Orihime for some early lunch of wraps and pop from a gas station. Then the three of them drove in Orihime’s car with their huge sodas and shades down to the waterfront, and already Ichigo was feeling pretty okay. Orihime was always so bubbly that it was hard for it not to spread. By the time they got to the spot, Ichigo was only half as antsy as he normally would’ve been.

Once they got to the river and trekked through the cleanup crew, Renji was already there.

When he saw them, he waved. Man, was he filthy. He stomped out of the water and shook like a wild dog on his way over to them, and up close it was even worse. He had absolutely no business looking as good as he did, soaked and muddy, in hiking boots and these _stupid_ camo cargo pants. His grey t-shirt was weighted down and heavy from the dirty water, and his hair was a tangled dripping mess, and his cheeks were flecked with mud – but he was grinning like the frog-hunting little boy.

“Osu,” Ichigo greeted, flicking his eyes up and down over him, swallowing at the way his shirt stuck onto him now that he was out of the water.

“Hey Ichigo,” Renji panted, coming to a stop by them with his hands on his hips. “Ladies.” He grinned, and Ichigo scowled.

“Good morning, Renji-san!” Orihime beamed, her eyes closing from the force of her smile as usual.

“Princess!” Renji greeted personally with enthusiasm and a special fondness in his eyes. He pretended like he was going to hug her and get her dirty, and she ducked back a little. Tatsuki then matched Ichigo’s scowl. Shrugging, Renji laughed when his teasing took its proper effect of merely frightening her a little. He instead glanced to Ichigo and whacked him on the chest, leaving a big muddy handprint.

Ichigo stared down at it for a moment and then snorted, "Whatever,” knowing Renji was just trying to rile him up too. He didn’t really care about his clothes – they were junk clothes anyways. No, he was mostly just proud of how nonchalant he’d reacted to Renji touching him out of the blue.

Renji laughed, shoulders shaking, and Ichigo tried not to shake in his boots at how much he loved,  _loved_ that deep warm laugh. He could barely keep a smile off his own face at the sound of it. 

"Good look, Ichigo," Tatsuki snorted, and Ichigo whipped his head towards her, sticking his tongue out viciously. She stuck hers out right back.

Seeming not to notice their bickering, Renji took an anticipatory breath. “Ready ta’ get dirty?” he prompted.

"Ah, sure," Ichigo replied on reflex, his subconscious speaking for him. After a moment, he felt embarrassed at the quick response. Renji gave him a wide smirk and, turning to the girls, proceeded to flirt as usual, which had Ichigo feeling a little awkward and admittedly jealous.

He was trying to learn not to mind it, but he must've been looking a little crushed, and Tatsuki must know him well enough to read him, because she began heatedly sniping at Renji, who predictably seemed thrilled at the feisty reaction.

“Kurosaki-kun, where should we start?” Orihime wondered sweetly from his side, and Ichigo hummed, looking for a spot. Renji interrupted suddenly.

“If I were that kinda’ guy, I’d love to see you covered in mud,” he said, and Ichigo was struck dumb by the outrageous remark for a moment, “but you can go ahead an’ stay dry, Princess. They need some help over at recycling.” He pointed it out to her, and then said, “Ichigo, you’re with me,” gesturing him to follow.

Surprised that Renji had sent the girls away after acting so forward with them, having thought that Renji might favor their company over his, Ichigo just stared after him for a second, before perking up and hurriedly following. He didn't miss Tatsuki flashing him a flat thumbs-up, and just stuck his tongue out over his shoulder with a peace sign. It was probably better not to question Renji's weird quirks and just take the good stuff with no complaints.

They grabbed some bags and then headed to the shore, which was absolutely putrid. Ichigo hadn’t realized how bad it was. He wouldn't have even realized the river needed cleaning. The water was blue out in the middle, and every time he drove over the bridge, it appeared clean. The shore and the shallows said differently, a stomach-turning grey. Honestly, it looked like people had been emptying dumpsters here for at least a year.

"Oh nasty," Ichigo noted to make conversation, curling his lip at the smell.

"I know, right? Just imagine how all the fish and ducks feel," Renji said sadly. 

Ichigo followed Renji down the flat path up to the water’s edge and stepped out into the filth, and after the initial disgust of walking into the scummy disgusting water, it wasn’t so bad. After they went out a little ways away from the banks, the water mostly cleared, and from there, Ichigo helped clean, searching for garbage. Initially Ichigo went where Renji went, but hung back, keeping a distance as he kicked his feet against the soft ground to bring up trash and put it in his bag.

Renji didn't seem to mind at first, and for a time Ichigo thought he might've forgotten all about him, but eventually Renji kept glaring in his direction and finally came to demand what was doing way over there and that he should come over to this spot by him!

The inevitable splash-fight ensued.

Ichigo didn't remember when the last of his nerves eased out of his gut, when the last of his uncertainty turned to open enjoyment at having Renji's playful attention turned on him, but it had to have been around the time Renji casually swatted a sheet of water over his head and then raised an eyebrow. Splashing him back harder in retaliation and making his pony lay down and cover his face, seeing Renji light up in an excited grin rather than irritation, Ichigo couldn't remember it ever being this easy to smile.

Completely soaked and giddy from hysterical laughter, they flailed and splashed around in the filthy water, swimming out and around the overgrown bushes along the steep banks to fight over the pieces of trash caught in the brambles.

They’d been out for about half an hour when Renji openly tried to goad him into playing, which Ichigo at first resisted. “No, that’s for kids,” he denied flatly – but then Renji splashed him with a wide swipe of his arm, and of course, Ichigo couldn't just _not_ splash back. Despite his token protest, they did end up playing once the tussling died down again. 

Leaving their bags floating some distance away, they swam down the edge of the river a ways to explore and horsed around by some lotus blooms, the lilypads crowding against their shoulders. Hundreds of the white flowers lit up around their heads like candles in the sun, some rosy and flushed pink in the center, a couple even glowing red too, dark and glittering like gems.

Ichigo hasn't felt this good in a very long time, out among the flowers with the sun shining on his wet head, his heart aglow with excitement and happiness at having Renji play with him and smile at him. In the forest of dark leaves and plant stalks tangling about their legs, even in plain view of the distant river crew, with Renji's sun-lit eyes beaming into his, it felt like it was just the two of them. It felt like, for just a few minutes, he got to steal Renji from the rest of the world.

“Wow, you’re a good swimmer, Ichigo!”

“Oh.” He didn’t know why the hell he felt embarrassed and sheepish at that comment, but he did, ducking his head into the water a little. “Nah…”

“Yeah. I love swimming,” Renji shared with a huge grin, gently pushing a few flowers away from his face, the blazing red ones lit up brighter than his soggy hair. Ichigo liked the pink ones the best; they're his favorite, but the red ones did seem particularly lovely today too.

“You ever been to the ocean?” Renji moved the lilypads out from in front of him, leaving only a few between them. Ichigo watched as a beetle flew down and pollinated a flower just in front of Renji's chest.

“No. Why?” Ichigo hushed his voice on reflex, because Renji had, and it seemed quiet for a second, the wind, the bees, distant traffic. Renji's voice seemed to have this echo to it against the water and the thick lilypads around them, like the two of them were alone in a cave.

“Ah, no reason. I haven’t.” Renji beckoned him to follow. “C’mon, let’s go look out there. Maybe we’ll see a boat.”

Ichigo gently kicked, feeling his water-shoe-clad feet brush against the reeds. He realized he’d been smiling a lot when his cheeks felt relieved as his grin finally relaxed. He watched as Renji swam out a bit further and treaded around a certain spot, and when Renji called him again, he slapped some plants away from his face and pushed out of the flowers to follow him.

“Yo, I think there’s a rock here,” Renji panted as Ichigo got closer, the exertion of treading in the deeper water for so long making his words unsteady.

“What?” Ichigo swam over and felt around with his foot, and by mutual wordless agreement, they grabbed onto each other for a moment. Renji clasped his upper arm to keep him from toppling over on the slippery thing, and Ichigo steadied a hand on his shoulder. “Oh yeah,” he noted as he felt something big and solid under his toes.

Renji held him against his chest for a second so they could both stand on the small corner of the thing, and Ichigo just let him, unimaginably pleased to be pressed onto his front, plush with the bulging muscles of his torso. The moment only lasted a second or so though, both of them looking down through the dark water as if to try and see where their feet were, to better balance on the rock.

“Wup’,” Renji suddenly said, still holding him but looking off over at the brambles again. “There’s some more shit over there.” Separating and treading once more, Renji evaluated the spot where a torn kite was tangled up in the branches. “Think you could reach that thing if you got on my shoulders?”

“Think you could hold me up?” Ichigo countered, still a bit breathless.

“Your skinny beanpole-ass?” Renji swung his head back around at him to give him a sarcastic look and a raised eyebrow, and for a wild second, Ichigo wondered if anything ever got to Renji, if he ever felt flustered or blown away or warm and weak down to the bones. He wondered if anyone ever made Renji feel like he felt right now.

“Please," Renji snorted sardonically.

Since that meant it was fucking _on,_ they waded over to the muddy trash-infested bank and around the nasty edge of the brambles, and Ichigo was glad he’d worn lightweight water shoes, because while he could move around fairly easily, Renji was like shin-deep in filth, his boots sinking and sticking with every heavy step.

“Okay, hop up,” Renji invited, coming to a stop near the tangled kite, holding his arms behind him. All sorts of good things were happening to him today, weren't they.

Ichigo didn’t pause for more than a moment before climbing up his back, slipping a couple times before using his leg strength to hang onto Renji’s waist. Renji bore being climbed pretty well, and didn’t say anything other than grunting as Ichigo’s elbow braced in the meat of his shoulder.

From the way the fabric stuck, Ichigo could tell Renji had a gorgeous back, and from the way his warm muscles gave under Ichigo’s handgrips, it felt even better than it looked, but let’s not open that can of worms.

“You got it?” Renji asked once Ichigo was seated upon his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he panted, giving a satisfied breath and straightening up. “You good?”

“I’m great.”

Ichigo looked away even though there was no way Renji could see his face from up here, and ignored the hands firmly gripping his thighs and the way they'd squeezed with that little remark. His heart was pounding in his throat at the sudden thrill.

He took a moment to swallow and breathe, and then, seeing that the trash was farther out of reach than anticipated – not too high, but just out of range – he said, “Okay, step forward, I can’t get it.”

“My feet are stuck, you’ve gotta’ lean,” Renji replied, not even attempting to move. Ichigo looked down in response to Renji tilting his head back, his soaked ponytail rubbing against Ichigo’s belly and his eyes peeking up at him.

“I can’t lean,” Ichigo refused, “You’ve gotta’ take a step.”

“Just lean, Ichigo!” Renji griped.

“If I lean, you’ll drop me!”

“I’ve got it!” Renji shouted irritably. Huffing through his nose, Ichigo leaned his weight forward, reaching for the trash which was clearly too far away, and Renji immediately staggered, struggling to find his footing in the mud.

Ichigo balanced his weight again, throwing his hands up. “See?!”

“I said I _got it!"_  Renji insisted stubbornly, matching his volume, “Just lean!”

“You’re a fucking retard,” Ichigo muttered, but leaned out. He almost fell again, but succeeded in grabbing part of the kite. “Got it!”

“You got it?”

Ichigo yanked the trash out of the branches, and then once he was done, Renji walked away with him on his back. Mortified, Ichigo beat him on the head.

“I thought you couldn’t move!”

“I was fuckin’ with you.”

Ichigo sputtered for a minute, glaring down at him. “Damn you!”

Renji flipped Ichigo backwards off his shoulders and into the muck, and then took off as fast as he could for deeper water. Ichigo came up coughing and chased him.

After scores had been settled and they both had been half-drowned and sick from laughing and yelling, they lazed around a bit. Ichigo would occasionally pick floating bits of trash out and put them in his garbage bag, and Renji floated on his back nearby, watching the clouds.

“So uhh,” he began after some calm content minutes of silence, “that guy you were with before’s pretty hot, yeah?”

“Uhh…” Ichigo looked over to him, not knowing what he was talking about - who, what guy? Renji picked his head up, treading, so he could see Ichigo’s face. Ichigo furrowed his brow in confusion. Wait… was he talking about that thing from last week? With Grimmjow?

Seeming to take his silence in a completely different way, Renji scratched at the back of his neck and muttered, “Sorry, are you like, not into that?” He grimaced and apologized sheepishly, “Fuck, sorry, I always forget that not everybody…” 

"Oh!" Ichigo hurriedly shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool,” he said, trying to sound bored.

Renji perked up. “Oh, okay, cool.” He grinned then. “Anyways, where’s he from? That accent’s really sexy.”

His initial suspicion having faded, and Ichigo began laughing – he forgot sometimes that Grimmjow had an accent because he heard it all the time. What was funny was that Renji only thought it was sexy because he hadn’t heard Grimmjow when he got really angry. Not his normal angry, like _actually_ angry.

“Spanish immigrant,” he replied, and tried to think of something else to contribute. He hated that it was always on Renji to keep the conversation going. He knew sometimes it made the poor guy uncomfortable because Renji was sociable and was used to other people being sociable right back. It wasn’t his fault that Ichigo talked like a zombie. He was glad Renji was always so chill about it.

“Ahh, cool, cool,” Renji noted, nodding. “How long’ve you two known each other?”

“A while?” Ichigo said slowly, thinking. “Couple years?”

“Nice. Cool. You two look good together.” Renji gave a wide smile, and Ichigo raised an eyebrow.

“Uhh, okay?” It was quiet for a while, until Renji frowned.

“I mean, you’re a thing, right?” When Ichigo raised his eyebrow, Renji clarified, “You an’ Jaegerjaquez?”

“Heh’,” Ichigo laughed flatly, “No.” Grimmjow had stopped trying to have sex with him a long time ago.

“Oh.” Renji looked surprised, and… pleased?

“What gave you that impression?” Ichigo asked, wrinkling his nose, even though he had an idea that it was to do with Grimmjow. He was starting to wonder if that's why Renji had left all of a sudden that day in the park. He knew Grimmjow had done something, but he'd never found out exactly what.

“I was just wondering,” Renji said nonchalantly, rolling a shoulder, “’cause, y’know, he’s slept with like half the people I know but I’ve still heard all this stuff about everyone he’s trashed for even tryin’a’ talk to you.” Ichigo’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought, y’know, you must be his honey.”

“What?” he questioned sharply. “Since when has that been happening?” He stared Renji down, who trailed off and changed the subject. Yeah, he and Grimm were definitely having a talk when he got home.

“Renji, did he say something to you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Uh no.” Renji twisted his lips up, looking askance, and Ichigo just stared at him until he cracked. “He was just givin’ me this weird look the other day. Y’know, when I said ‘hey’ ta’ you at the quad.”

Ichigo nodded and settled a bit, floating gently in the water. “Oh. Yeah.” He hummed. “He does that.”

“Oh.” Renji furrowed his brow and they were both quiet for a while. Ichigo figured Renji probably wasn't used to someone not liking him.

“Don’t worry, it’s not you,” Ichigo finally said tentatively, drawing Renji’s attention back. “He doesn’t like anyone.” He grimaced wryly. “Trust me, I’ve known him for years. He doesn’t even like _me.”_

This didn’t seem to assure Renji, just put this insatiably curious thing into his eyes. He frowned thoughtfully and muttered, “He’s your roommate, right?”

“Yep.”

“My roommate’s the head editor of the school paper.” Ichigo vaguely pulled up a picture of that Hisagi guy, and nodded as Renji kept talking. “So I’ve heard so much crazy stuff.” He gave Ichigo an eager look then. “True?”

Ichigo knew that Grimmjow had some sort of vendetta against the school paper because of how it sometimes talked about shit he’d done, but… “Well,” Ichigo mumbled sheepishly, “I haven’t read the paper, so…” –so Renji would have to provide examples if he was going to confirm or deny anything.

With bright eyes, Renji went right ahead in asking. “Punched out a window of a security van?”

“True,” Ichigo replied reluctantly.

“Vaulted the main wall drunk and landed on his feet?” Renji’s eyes sparkled, his face brightening up with each thing, wide and open with wonder and amazement, and as hesitant as Ichigo felt, he couldn’t really deny him that. He seemed so interested…

“Yeah.”

“Buys condoms in bulk?”

“How do you even know that?” Ichigo wondered, brow furrowed.

“Drinks the juice in the bottom of a tuna can?” Renji asked finally with his face all screwed up in revulsion, seeming to see that Ichigo didn’t want to answer too many more and ending it with that one.

Ichigo grimaced. He hated it when Grimmjow did that. “I agree, it’s disgusting.”

Renji just stared at him in awe for a few seconds, as if marveling that he lived with somebody so weird. Ichigo didn’t see what the big deal was, and started feeling a little embarrassed.

“Tell me something more,” Renji then urged quietly with a smile, floating around in the water.

Ichigo thought hard for a long time, desperate for something - anything – finally, he settled awkwardly on that one time.

“Ah, there was this one time,” he said slowly, almost questioningly, “he told me he did crystal meth?" He scratched his neck and thought for a second. "And then wandered onto the freeway?”

Renji’s eyes were round, his mouth open for a second as he just blinked and gaped. “What?” he said, voice hushed and completely mind-boggled, making Ichigo feel bad for being such a sucky storyteller.

“Yeah, there was this semi, and these guys,” he grimaced, “and he almost lost his arm because this _other_ guy who was on meth like, stabbed him or something?”

“Whoa,” Renji marveled incredulously, “and you _live_ with him?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten used to it.” Ichigo shrugged. “He’s not so tough. He loves kittens.” Renji snorted then, grinning.

“He’s a crazy maniac, he’s really sexy, and he loves kittens,” he summed up, then gave Ichigo a mock-suspicious look, “and you’re _sure_ nothin’s goin’ on there?”

Ichigo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Positive,” he said flatly. “He’s needy enough as it is without there being anything going on.”

“So not a boyfriend, a babysitter,” Renji surmised teasingly.

“More like a chew toy,” Ichigo said with an eyeroll. “Or a punching bag.”

“Well, if you ever need to escape, you can come hang,” Renji offered with an amused smile, eyes doing that crinkling thing, and Ichigo, a bit cowed, immediately refused on reflex.

“Ah, I’m used to it. But thanks.” He felt like hitting himself, because shit, he’d just turned him down. _Why did he turn him down?_

“Right on,” Renji agreed. “You could still swing around anyway,” he offered again, and that time Ichigo nodded tentatively and said ‘sure.’ Renji’s smile widened.

They somehow had swum back over to the rock, and began playing on it again. As they took turns standing on it with their tiptoes, Renji began frowning thoughtfully.

“Hey, you know,” he noted, “this doesn’t really feel like a rock.” He pressed his foot on it a bit more, bouncing on it and swimming around the spot a bit. “What do you think?”

Ichigo swam down and peered through the dim water, realizing it was an oil drum. He came back up and told Renji, and they then took turns submerging and yanking on it. After some time trying this, Ichigo stayed above the surface and waited for Renji to come back up, and then panted, “Dude, it’s full of mud, we’ll never drag it out of there.”

Renji’s eyes lit up and this look of excitement slowly spread on his face as he said seriously, “We need the harpoon.” Ichigo frowned, but Renji rubbed his hands together and continued in excitement, “Ahh, this is gonna’ be awesome, I’d hoped we’d get to use that thing today!”

“Harpoon?” Ichigo repeated slowly. Renji nodded, brow furrowed, gesturing vaguely with his hands.

“Yeah, y’know, like one’a’ those steel tow-cables.”

“So basically, _not_ a harpoon,” Ichigo clarified, just to be an ass.

“Shut up!” Renji splashed him with a grimace, and then they raced each other to shore. Ichigo squeezed out his clothes a bit at the mucky edge of the water, but Renji wasted no time in bounding up the path to talk to the guys in charge of the tow cable. Ichigo headed over to Orihime, and found that she’d kept his soda near her work-station, just as he’d hoped.

Ichigo stood near her for a while and took a long drink, watching as some men in city-uniforms dragged the cable out. He looked around for Renji curiously, only to spot him nearby, peeling his shirt off and wringing it out, and Ichigo choked on his soda. It was lucky he was already soaked and that no one would notice, because he coughed a bunch of it back up.

_‘Look at that body…!’_

“Kurosaki-kun!” Orihime gasped in concern, and Ichigo just embarrassedly shook his head, still coughing, forearm in front of his mouth as he tried to get it under control.

He headed back to the water to cool down, red-faced, and waited for Renji to come out with the cable, which he did not long after, pulling the hooked end with him.

“Ahh, that Orihime is so cute!” Renji sighed heavily once they were some ways away from shore, swimming around to try and find the spot again.

“I guess,” Ichigo responded.

“I’m a sucker for women like that...” Irked, Ichigo gave him a sharp look.

“Renji, forget it,” he warned. “She’s sensitive.”

“Ah, don’t worry, don’t worry.” Renji waved it off, lugging the cable awkwardly as he swam. “She wouldn't want a scamp like me anyway.” He gave Ichigo a look with a small knowing smile. “You, uh… have your eye on her?”

“What?”

“She your girlfriend?” Ichigo wanted to snap, _‘yeah_ , _I fucking heard you_ _,’_ but didn’t. He was starting to get the feeling that Renji was just the type to talk about that kind of stuff a lot, and very freely – at least that was the impression he got from the way he’d said all those things about Grimmjow with little to no apprehension.

“No.”

“No?” Renji blinked a bit. “What about Arisawa? She seemed more like your kind of woman.” Ichigo wrinkled his nose.

“What does that even mean?” he inquired slowly.

“You know, feisty,” Renji clarified with a rather salacious grin, “fierce.” Ichigo grimaced, his mouth drawing into a flat line.

“No way.” Starting to think he was being teased, Ichigo grew irritated, and had sunk down into the water a bit, his mouth below the surface and his eyebrows pulled down into a glare.

“You prefer ta’ stay free, huh?” Renji guessed, and Ichigo swam near his side lazily. He sure liked to talk, didn’t he, and he seemed content to just babble, not discouraged by Ichigo’s short responses. “I get it. I’ve never really been the dating kind myself.”

“Wonder why,” Ichigo grumbled, feeling suddenly sad.

“Been waitin’ for the one ta’ come along, of course!” Renji called indignantly, coming to a stop, assumedly having found the right place.

“’Tss,” Ichigo muttered contemptibly, if a bit teasingly. “The one.”

He let his legs float up a bit and leaned back in the water, lounging around while Renji splashed around. “Hey now!” Renji said in offense, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with some good old-fashioned romance!”

“Okay?”

Renji gave him a long suspicious glare and then ducked under the water to attach the cable. It took him several tries, but eventually he surfaced and tugged on it a bit to make sure it was on properly. Then he flashed a thumbs-up out to the guys on the shore so they could use the truck to start winding it up.

“No seriously dude, I’m a fuckin’ _slut_ for some love,” Renji shared, causing Ichigo to raise his eyebrows that he was still talking about it. “Ahh, but finding love is hard. Sex, not so much.”

“Pff’.” Ichigo looked at the clouds, lying on his back. “Don’t say weird shit to me.”

“Heh’,” Renji chuckled, and kicked his foot underwater to send a wave towards Ichigo. “So what about you then?” he asked more seriously.

“Huh?” Ichigo looked up.

“You seeing anyone?” he asked, a curious look coming over his face. “It wasn’t the two obvious candidates, so who?”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. “Candidates?” They could hear a car starting in the distance, the truck backing up down the path to the shore.

“Yeah, y’know, the ones people speculate are, y’know – with you,” Renji clarified, not paying any attention to that, eyes on Ichigo unwaveringly, as if waiting for him to slip up.

“What people?” Ichigo’s brow pinched.

“Y’know, just people. Who say stuff.” Okay, that was really vague…? Renji shrugged a shoulder, lip quirking. “But they were wrong, apparently. It’s not Jaegerjaquez, not Orihime, so who?”

“You’re a nosy fucker, aren’t you,” Ichigo noted, sinking into the water again, glaring and feeling scrutinized.

“Just tryin’a’ figure you out,” Renji said, grinning easily. “You know, what you’re about.” He peered at him curiously then, smile becoming thoughtful, brows tensing, “You’re always alone.”

Ichigo looked away. “Says who,” he muttered childishly. There was a sudden screech as they began winding up the cable from shore.

“Says everyone.” That ticked Ichigo off a little bit, because who did Renji think he was, huh? Renji tried to hide a grin and failed, and Ichigo scowled deeper. “You’re hard to talk to. You're kinda' cranky, but you're nice. It makes people wonder.”

Ichigo just narrowed his eyes. “…” Renji’s eyes seemed to flash, his grin going a little dark, his voice… strange.

“Kurosaki Ichigo, med student, badass,” he listed off, “tall and handsome, mysterious-”

“Oh my fucking god, you are so full of bullshit,” Ichigo groaned, embarrassed, but Renji’s mouth just lifted in a smile.

“By all accounts, he should be a swaggering asshole like Jaegerjaquez, but he’s not.” Renji’s brow lowered, his eyes boring into him as if he was trying to figure him out. “He’s a good guy.” Ichigo started to feel sick and anxious, because that stuff wasn’t true. He's not so special as all that, not so much that Renji should be interested in figuring him out.

He thought back on that stuff Renji had said on finding the one, and love, and he thought of that feeling among the lilypads, the warm, weak to the bones feeling that made you want to know everything about a person. He wasn't the kind of guy that Renji could be fascinated by, that could make him feel like that, so why was Renji digging?

“He’s got no reason not to make friends and break some hearts-”

“Renji,” Ichigo tried, but to no avail.

“-but he’s all on his own, all the time.” Ichigo shied away from Renji’s steady gaze. The cord was growing tight to bursting between them, lifting out of the water and straining.

“Isn’t there someone special?” Ichigo looked up and met Renji’s eyes to find him smiling warmly. “C’mon, there’s gotta’ be someone,” he urged with a deceptive softness to his words, because they hit Ichigo's heart like needles and his ears like feathers.

“I dunno’,” he said hesitantly, eyes cast to the side, wishing he could sink into the river and live down with the garbage. He felt like he was being picked apart, but was somehow helpless to stop it, a patient given anesthesia under the sharp tools of a surgeon.

“I’m not dating or anything,” he ceded awkwardly.

The cord yanked and squealed suddenly, and they both moved back a bit, and as Ichigo raised his eyes to Renji again, he was smiling in a knowing and satisfied way that made Ichigo’s heart jump. 

He knew how this went, he knew that look and those words, he'd seen this movie before, but somehow he didn't believe that it was happening to  _him._ It just couldn't be real. He's too boring, he's too uninteresting. He's not cool or nice or funny. His character doesn't get lines. He doesn't get the guy.

Ichigo didn't know how it wasn't all over his face, how Renji couldn't see it. He must've been able to see something though, because he picked even more, pulling him open out of his control. 

“So there _is_ someone, huh?” Voracious for gossip, Renji’s eyes lit up with fire, his face spread in a smile. “What’re they like?”

“Big, dumb, and unavailable,” Ichigo shared sourly.

Renji laughed a little bit, “That’s your type, huh?” He grimaced. “Aw shit, man. Hope your luck turns around.”

“Who knows,” Ichigo said flatly, then fidgeted with his hands underwater, looking down. “What about you, huh?” He was hesitant in asking, but he really… wanted to know.

“Hm? What?” Renji’s brows popped up.

“What, what’s your type,” Ichigo clarified, trying not to sound embarrassed, covering it up with sass. “Since we’re just playing the nosey-ass game.” Renji showed his teeth in a big grin and Ichigo’s hesitance eased a bit.

“Hmm,” he considered genuinely, “I’ve got no real preference other than that they’re fun, interesting, smart - and into me, obviously.” He shrugged. “Y’know, the normal stuff.”

“Ah,” Ichigo replied shortly, his gut-feeling yanking him in every direction to _escape_  while he had the chance _,_ but somehow he was rooted to the spot, morbidly curious, the tree of his body enslaved by those stupid buds in his heart.

“But, if I’m honest,” Renji hummed, a smile spreading on his face, his eyes flicking to Ichigo. “I’ve gotta’ admit, I do have this weakness.”

“What is it?” Ichigo prompted after a moment, and it was a loaded question. He knew the answer before Renji said it, knew it by the look in his eye, and the cable was so tight between them that it looked fit to snap.

The very air seemed about to burst, and Ichigo didn’t think he could last another moment without exploding. Renji looked him in the eyes, and he was smiling at one corner of his mouth, and Ichigo was getting hot all over, because he knew what Renji was going to say.

He felt it before he said it, the brush to his hair, the tug of Renji's fingers on the wet curl of his bang that had come loose where he'd tried to slick it back. He saw Renji's lips move, and for a moment, everything was static, but then he heard it:

“… Blondes.”

Everything seemed to barrel-roll, and the drum was ripped from the ground with an incredible displacement of water and silt, mud bubbling up as the metal cylinder rocketed out of its prison.

It felt like the nose-flick times one hundred, no, _a thousand._ It felt like Cupid had come down from the clouds and struck him straight through the heart with a lance.

They treaded for a few moments, staring as it was wound towards shore, and then, blushing furiously, Ichigo splashed Renji in the face for good measure and told him to quit saying weird shit. Renji burst out into carefree laughter, swimming after him.

“Just yankin’ ya’, man.”

And it all fades, it all sinks and slumps and melts into nothingness.

Ichigo walked up onto the shore and didn’t turn around, letting the water run off of him and drip from his hair, down his nose, down his face. Drip, drip, drip. The sound of it hitting the ground as he walked was just like gentle rainfall.

_‘Just yanking you.’_

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

Coming here had been a total mistake.

When Renji had invited him to hang out, Ichigo’s previous doused hopes had been renewed – however, that was because he’d taken it personally when it clearly hadn’t meant to be taken as such. It hadn’t been like _that._ Renji was just messing around. That’s what all of this was, was just a big joke.

Coming here while feeling this way, putting his heart up like a target for Renji to shoot at for sport had been a complete and total mistake, because his heart was a joke to Renji, and Ichigo didn’t think it was funny.

Ichigo didn’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t like this. He didn’t like being _yanked_ _._ He didn’t like going back and forth and being thrown around like this, the pain of it, the sharp swings between hope and elation and dread and disappointment, _shame._ He felt like a fool.

Not for feeling the way he did, but for entertaining the possibility that something could come out of it.

He didn’t think he was an idiot for liking Renji – if he was, so were a multitude of others. No, he was an idiot for hoping. His fond feelings were completely warranted, considering Renji’s warm personality and the familiarity he treated everyone with, as if he _knew_ them and loved them. Renji made people feel _good._ No, liking Renji wasn’t the problem. It was that Ichigo had made the mistake of hoping that it could be personal, letting himself believe that it was, that it had ever been. He wasn’t special, he wasn’t going to be the one out of hundreds who’d make Renji fall for him, who’d tame the hungry wild beast, he wasn’t an _exception_ to Renji’s meaningless and by-and-large _harmless_ flirting. And really, that was why liking Renji _sucked._

Having a crush was supposed to be this awesome amazing thing – falling in love – and it _had_ been for a while, this warm tingly novel thing, but then it had gotten more real, and had become thrilling and _frightening._ Now, overall, Ichigo was just left disheartened, because it was basically meaningless.

This was an important milestone for him, having a crush like this, yet of course, since his life always had to be dramatic and played up at his own expense, it _would_ be on someone who couldn’t reciprocate or take those emotions seriously. Of course this important, new, wonderful thing would all be for nothing, would all be for someone it didn’t even matter to.

It would’ve been so much better if Ichigo could’ve just kept on hating Renji and walked away from the whole thing, but it wasn’t that simple, because Renji was great. It sucked, liking him. It wasn’t like Renji made it that difficult either.

It wasn’t hard to like Renji, to be charmed by him, to feel close to him, to forget that his attentions and joking were a default. It wasn’t hard to let himself believe that Renji really did like him, that maybe for him it was serious and that he really meant it, that he would be the one exception of what must be the rule of have-fun-then-run. It wasn’t that hard to fall for him at all. It was incredibly easy. Ichigo was even tempted to say it felt _natural._ Just look how he'd uncoiled today, come out of his shell and laughed and played with Renji like he was _Rukia,_ like he'd known him for years. It had all felt so easy, he hadn't even thought about it. 

Renji was a flirt, and Ichigo _knew_ he was being flirted with, but the thing was, as good as that special attention felt, it _wasn’t_ special. It didn’t make him special. Renji was just _like_ that. It didn’t mean anything.

Those buds… they didn’t mean anything.

Coming here had been a mistake. All it had done was strengthen those stupid buds, let the roots of the goddamn things dig and rip through the flesh of his heart as easily as topsoil. It had let them plant their grip too deep in the ground to be pulled out.

He never should have come here. He’s been naïve.

That moment, that moment where Ichigo had found himself holding his breath, where there had been so much tension coiling through him and through the very atmosphere of that moment – and it had all been a stupid joke. Ichigo had been so affected by that moment, so emotionally compromised that looking back, it felt like his heart had replaced his brain for a minute – and for all that meant, Renji had simply been teasing him. Renji could mess with him and draw him in like that, but not even mean it. He could exercise that much power over Ichigo with so little effort, he could be so convincing, and he could do it all without actually feeling _anything,_ without meaning any of it. And where did that leave Ichigo?

It was frightening, and quite frankly, embarrassing. He’s been such an idiot.

He just wanted to go home and forget this whole thing had happened, forget that he ever met Renji, that he’d ever liked him or hoped or dreamed.

Heart squeezing with a choking sadness, Ichigo’s face was blank, and luckily, pretending wasn't hard either – it was the easiest thing in the world.

After they’d dragged out that nasty barrel, Ichigo spent the rest of their time up by Orihime and helping her sort junk. She chatted cheerfully to him and didn’t make him talk as he sat moodily at her side and glared at anyone who came close to them. Renji came over a few times and tried to get him to come with him again, but Ichigo avoided him as much as possible, and started wandering off every time he saw him coming.

Once the cleanup shut down at like four thirty, Ichigo tried to sneak away to his car, but Renji nabbed him before he could escape, and the two of them walked down the waterfront a bit to this nearby boat-in bar right on the pier.

Ichigo was a bit standoffish at first, and tried to call it a day, pulling up every excuse: he was tired, he’s hungry, his clothes are disgusting, he’s got homework – but Renji insisted so much that eventually Ichigo had to give in and go with him. They’d made plans before to hang out after, and he couldn’t very well back out, as much as he’d rather be anywhere else. Renji didn’t leave any room to refuse.

Didn’t mean he had to talk though.

As they walked, Ichigo was decidedly reticent and subdued, even more so than his usual aloof nature dictated. If Renji picked up on it, he didn’t mention it aloud, chatty and friendly as always, which just made Ichigo feel worse, because he wasn't mad at Renji, really. It wasn't Renji’s fault that he didn’t return Ichigo’s feelings. It wasn’t Renji’s fault that he was so wonderful that everybody loved him and he couldn’t love everybody back – and god knew he did a pretty good job anyways – it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t make everybody _the one._

“Hey, so you gotta’ tell me how that ambulance thing went down,” Renji urged eagerly, as if he _had_ to know.

“What?” Ichigo squinted and didn’t even try to sound like he cared. He just wanted to go home and take a shower and eat some chocolate ice cream in bed.

“You know,” Renji prompted, “That badass thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know, the five ambulances thing! Frickin’ _sweet!"_  Renji crowed, and god, everything hurt. Ichigo’s kidding himself about not feeling anything, he hurts so much.

“Oh.”

He was quiet for a while, making sure his voice would come out steady, and then was quiet for still longer to think. Finally, he told him about the five guys he’d hospitalized, but when he was done with the story a whopping twelve second later, Renji insisted ‘say some more.’

Ichigo didn’t feel up to it, and was horribly confused and a bit hurt at those words ‘say some more,’ because, what the fuck did _that_ mean? – but Renji was so eager and hopeful looking that Ichigo hadn’t the heart to let him down, so he rather desperately searched for more details that he’d first thought to be irrelevant to the story.

Ichigo told him the why and how of the incident, about how the guys were members of a gang who roved around picking on people. He faltered a bit there in uncertainty, but Renji was fucking _eating it up,_ so he tentatively added on how he’d gotten involved – how he’d been bothered by the guys before and seen them around, bugging others. He explained that it had been particularly bad that one time because they’d been beating up this exchange student.

Then, feeling like he’d told a very poor rendition of the story, he fell into a rather insecure silence, and just felt like shit.

To his credit, Renji was a really good listener. He did all the things a polite person did during a story. He nodded and occasionally interjected a ‘yeah’ to keep Ichigo rolling, but when Ichigo stopped talking because he’d run out of things to say, Renji kept urging him on for a few moments more as if waiting for him to continue.

Once he’d realized that Ichigo had finished, he again eagerly insisted that he say some more.

At first, Ichigo had wondered if Renji was using that statement to employ sarcasm, perhaps to make a jibe about how he was _too_ talkative, because who just said ‘say some more’ to someone? It was _weird._

After the third time trying to retell the very simple story of beating up five losers with Renji _still_ insisting that he say some more, Ichigo finally said with a helpless frustration, “I _can’t_ say some more, that’s all that happened.”

Renji narrowed his eyes with a wry smile. “Don’t fuck with me, you hardly said anything.”

“Hardly _anything?”_ Ichigo sputtered, “I feel like I’ve been talking for-” He stopped then, giving Renji a hard suspicious look, quietly assessing, “Are you fucking punking me?”

Reeling back and holding his hands up in an appeasing gesture, sweating, Renji swore, “No, seriously, dude.” He huffed then, lips pursed, “You’ve just told me different renditions of ‘they were picking on my bro – I beat them up.’”

“That’s what happened,” Ichigo said uncertainly, not knowing what more Renji wanted him to do.

“I wanna’ know _more_ though!” Renji insisted stubbornly, brows pushed together almost pleadingly.

Ichigo grimaced, looking at his feet and walking in silence. “…” He didn’t _have_ any more. He just… he just wanted to go home. He didn’t have it in him to play this game.

“C’mon man, I wanna’ know how you kicked their asses!” Renji urged, his charisma and passion suddenly serving to sap Ichigo of energy just as much as Keigo’s did instead of filling him with that nervous excitement as it had before. All it did was make Ichigo feel hopeless, worthless, undeserving.

“Maybe another time,” he mumbled.

“Aww,” Renji whined in disappointment, but grinned wryly and insisted teasingly, “I’ll get it outta’ you yet.”

And Ichigo felt bad, he felt sick and ashamed and wanted to curl up and die, because he wasn’t planning on ever doing this again. He didn’t want to give Renji the chance to ‘get it out of him’ someday in the future.

Perhaps it was a cruel reminder, but it wouldn’t be hard to do. It wouldn’t be hard to avoid Renji. It’d hurt, sure, but it wouldn’t be hard logistically to avoid seeing him. Sure, they liked a lot of the same things, but Renji was a social creature and Ichigo wasn't. Their groups of friends didn’t overlap, they didn’t have the same activities or even the same interests – or maybe they did, Ichigo didn’t know, and that’s the whole point. He didn’t know Renji, not really, and Renji didn’t know him.

That’s why it sucked so much that it wasn’t hard to like him. It wasn’t hard to want to be close to him, to want to be his friend, because Renji made you _feel_ like you were, like you were meant to be. It was far too easy to fall in love with his beautifully multifaceted eyes and the thousand different gorgeous smiles he had, and his big, sweet, stubborn heart.

God, he’s… just…

“There was this coin,” Ichigo blurted out, eyes wide with surprise and frozen against Renji’s face. Renji’s eyebrows popped up in confusion.

Realizing what he’d just said and that he couldn’t stop now, even though he’d just betrayed his own plans to not get into this mess any deeper, Ichigo continued, after looking at the ground, embarrassed by his outburst.

He told Renji what that coin had meant to Chad, rather haltingly, but Renji listened with a look of avid rapture.

“You got it back for him,” Renji concluded, seeming perplexed. “The five guys,” he guessed, when Ichigo didn’t comment, “You were getting the coin back.”

“Well…” Ichigo shrugged and swallowed, looking at his mud-caked feet leaving prints on the sidewalk. He felt silly saying it out loud, and shared rather awkwardly, “He was willing to stake his life on it. It was a gift from his Jiji.” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly, “-or, not a gift.”

“Yeah?” Renji prompted, lip protruding.

“It was a promise not to hurt anyone for his own sake,” Ichigo remembered. “I thought that compassion and restraint was amazing.”

“Yeah, it is,” Renji mumbled, turning to face forward suddenly, brow furrowed.

“So I kicked Yokochini in his ugly face,” he finished again, with a bit more feeling and a sense of satisfaction. He still isn't sorry about it even though he'd gotten in quite a bit of trouble later on over that incident.

“Is that when you did the ambulance thing?” Renji perked up eagerly, eyes bright and curious and anticipatory.

“Ahh, yeah,” Ichigo muttered sheepishly, scratching his head. 

“What happened then?” he pushed on, voice almost hushed, eyes shining with fascination again.

“I won.”

Renji seemed fit to explode at that, but he let it slide, because he just threw his head back and huffed. “Then what?” he demanded.

Ichigo had to think for a while then and Renji patiently waited. “Well, Chad an' I became friends.” He shrugged. “We were pretty alike. We’ve both lost people, we both got picked on.” Now that he was thinking about it, he kind of missed Chad. They'd been pretty close. “He didn’t really talk much for himself or hit anyone for his own defense, but once I knew why, I made a promise back then that he could use his strength for me, and me for him, so he didn’t have to break his word.” Ichigo exhaled through his nose and looked off down the street. “He had something that he wanted to protect with his life, so I wanted to risk mine to defend that too. So I had his back.” He grimaced. “I swore.”

Renji didn’t readily reply, and when Ichigo shot a glance at him, he seemed... disturbed? Thoughtful? At any rate, he was squinting, almost in a pained manner. “Swore on what?” he finally wondered, baffled.

“On nothing,” he said easily, because he hadn’t overthought it at the time, and not now either. “I just swore.”

Renji was quiet for a while, but finally whistled lowly. “Thanks for sharing.” Ichigo shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to pretend like it didn’t matter to him as much as it did, like he hadn't just laid out his most personal feelings without even thinking about it. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to,” Renji then offered nicely, brow scrunched considerately.

“It’s whatever,” Ichigo mumbled, and looked away. Renji grinned then, straightening up and doing that fucking stretch, his mud-flecked stomach flashing in and out of view.

“Damn though,” he laughed, shaking his damp hair around, “If I could have you or the entire wrestling team to have my back in a fight, my money’s on you.”

“Pff’,” Ichigo spat, rolling his eyes. “You _would_ need help in a fight,” he muttered sarcastically. Renji let out an incredulous laugh, but then pretended to be mad.

Ichigo, being the masochistic bastard that he was, decided that maybe he would stick around for a little while after all. Acting like a spoiled little kid just because he can't have just what he wants is stupid. He should be grateful, right, for the chance to be Renji's friend.

Once they’d found the bar, Renji stopped for a quick smoke break outside before they headed inside. “You smoke?” Renji offered him one, eyebrows raised, but Ichigo shook his head.

“Nah.” He did stand out there and wait with Renji though, even though he was told a couple times that he didn’t have to.

Once they went in and walked towards the bar, this group of guys who seemed to be a bunch of Renji’s friends immediately globbed onto them, and just as immediately, Renji’s attention was diverted from him as an individual to the entire group.

It wasn’t that Renji _ditched_ him or anything – he stayed by Ichigo's side and picked him out of everyone else to sit by at the counter, sitting backwards and spinning in his chair – but Ichigo just did not belong there. He felt kind of put-off, not really fitting in, especially since Renji acted like a bit more of a jerk around them – his personality in a crowd was a lot more… just a _lot more_. Ichigo felt like a complete wallflower.

Ichigo sipped a beer and remained nearby while Renji was thoroughly distracted, and since he didn’t know any of these rowdy people, he mostly just listened unless Renji would try to include him by asking him for back-up or to confirm something, to which he would just nod or shrug and generally feel pathetic. He did try to enjoy himself, but he couldn’t help but feel separate and out of place.

Watching Renji’s viciously wide grin, his frequent laughter, and his animated storytelling, Ichigo couldn’t help but feel… dull.

He’d like to fit into this life of his, to be Renji’s friend, to be strong enough and energetic enough that he could keep up, but he didn’t think he could do it.

It was already bad enough that he wasn’t great in crowds and Renji _thrived_ in them. Ichigo just… he didn’t belong in Renji’s life. He didn’t _fit…_ Like two puzzle pieces that looked as though they should go together, but really didn’t. They could be forced together if you wanted to badly enough, they looked like and _felt_ like they belonged, but the flimsy cardboard pieces would be damaged afterwards even if you did succeed in _making_ them fit.

They… _he_ shouldn’t force it. He should walk away now with his cardboard still all nice and unbent. He tried to tell himself that, but it didn’t feel that way. He felt bent already. He felt like Renji had already bent him around quite a bit.

_‘Even so… it’s… it’s no use.’_

Eventually, after drinking down most of his beer, he got up and tapped Renji on the arm with his knuckles, muttering barely loud enough to be heard through the general ruckus of the bar, “I’m gonna’ go, man,” and then slipped out of the group without even waiting for a response.

Renji was immediately interrupted and completely distracted from what he’d been doing, reaching out to grab Ichigo’s sleeve. Ichigo paused and felt like his neck was on a mechanical rig from how rigid it felt as he looked up to see Renji giving him a confused look. “What?” he asked, brow clenching, “Really?”

Ignoring the others’ talking, Renji seemed completely focused on him, and Ichigo felt incredibly embarrassed and even more anxious to leave. He hadn’t expected Renji to draw attention to his escape or do anything really past waving or saying ‘see ya'.’

Seeing that it was too late to back out now, Ichigo doubled down even though Renji seemed disappointed or something. “Yeah, I’ve had enough,” he grunted, scowling. “’M gonna’ head back.”

“C’mon, nooo,” Renji complained, “Stay.” Ichigo grimaced a bit and shook his head, ‘no,’ only to see Renji’s expression change suddenly. “You not having any fun?” he wondered almost blankly, surprised, and like a switch was flipped, he looked back up with his easy apologetic smile.

“Ahh, hey guys, we gotta’ take off,” Ichigo heard Renji say, his eyes focused on the dirty floorboards somewhere in the distance as he turned to head outside. “I’m sick’a’ smelling like the swamp monster,” Renji excused.

Somewhat perturbed and desperately confused, that fluttering starting back up in his fingertips and stomach, Ichigo exited the building, walking off briskly with his head down. He only had a few blocks to go down to find his car, and then he could get out of here and try to forget about this awful harrowing day – and Renji altogether. After a moment or two in the comparatively quieter street and the open air, Ichigo looked over his shoulder rather defensively, only to see Renji following him along the side of the road.

“Wait up!” he called.

 _‘Fuck, stop. Whatever you're doing, just stop, please,'_  Ichigo thought. _'P_ _lease – please, just go.’_

Renji did not go, and once there was no hope of pretending that he hadn’t heard him call, Ichigo slowed a bit, but did not stop. Renji caught up and walked alongside him, and watched him quietly for a few silent minutes. Ichigo didn’t so much as look at him, and didn’t speak to him either. In fact, neither of them said anything until Ichigo’s car was in sight.

With every step, Ichigo just felt worse and worse. Why was Renji out here with him? Did he feel like he had to come with him just because he’d been the one to invite him out? Shit, he hadn’t meant to make Renji go away from his friends just because he felt obligated to stay with him. Or maybe it was just the same old Renji, who had to yank Ichigo’s chain every time he gave up, who couldn’t stand not to be loved, _pined for_ by everybody, all at once. He was fucking with Ichigo, that was it, found it amusing to tease him and push him.

It’d be convenient to get angry, much easier, but the look of thoughtful concern on Renji’s face was at odds with any idea of him being purposefully cruel – and Ichigo couldn’t reconcile those horrible things, the playing, the game Renji made of sex, he couldn’t reconcile those rumors with the way Renji had treated him, because Renji _has_ been nice to him. He’s had good manners and has been friendly, and if all those awful things were true, he’d never let on about it at least. He'd never acted like the heartless man he was purported to be.

Renji was at his side because that’s just how he is, and that made it all the worse – because Renji _did_ like him, Ichigo knew that he did, just not any more or less than he liked anyone else, and it had been Ichigo’s fault, his weakness to hope. He’d wasted Renji’s time by coming here, he’d taken advantage of his good-nature.

Feeling completely rotten, Ichigo resolved not to bother Renji again. It was better for them both.

Finally, Renji piped up, having frowned in thought for some time at Ichigo’s brooding silence.

“You had fun today, didn’t you?” Renji inquired rather bemusedly, voice hopelessly puzzled and uncertain. “I mean, I can’t tell since you sure don’t smile a lot…” He seemed to have been trying to joke, but it fell pitifully flat as his laugh trailed off questioningly.

Ichigo tried to pull himself together then, because this wasn’t what he wanted. He hadn’t meant to make Renji feel bad… Ichigo sighed and found it in him to smirk a little. “Eh,” he shrugged, “playin’ in the river with a bunch of trash was pretty cool.” He looked up for a moment, letting his eyes flash against Renji’s, and was gratified to see Renji perk up immediately. “Thanks for inviting me.” He looked forward again.

Renji was standing a bit straighter, but still wasn’t smiling again yet, looking at Ichigo appraisingly. “But… you don’t wanna’ do it again,” he concluded, face creased in a frown.

“What?” Ichigo wondered where he’d gotten that – never mind that it was mostly true. “No,” he assured, “Hanging with you is cool.” He quirked his lip again as he came up to his car. “You’re pretty entertaining, considering all the dumb shit you do.”

“You little punk,” Renji mumbled amusedly, cracking a grin at that. Relaxing again into his usual carefree demeanor, he hummed, “So, do you really have to go? Or…” He waved a hand, and Ichigo cursed himself for being so easily read. “I know my buddies can be a lot."

“Ah yeah, I should get home,” Ichigo replied, dodging the true intent of the question.

"Are you sure? I didn't know they'd be there, I swear," Renji promised earnestly, as if in apology.

"No," Ichigo insisted, "It's really fine. I just need to get back now." He was able to twist his lip up a little in a smile then as he took his keys out. “I think my eyelashes’ve crusted over with mud.”

He didn’t realize Renji had approached until he was already right in his space.

Alarmed, he darted back, his body plastered against his car as Renji suddenly leaned forward. He braced an arm above Ichigo’s shoulder, looking into his face. He was right up close – _so, so close –_ his breath hitting Ichigo’s cheek.

“Looks fine ta’ me,” Renji said in this low husky voice, his eyes hooded and warm and clearly not looking at Ichigo’s muddy eyelashes, instead gazing back into Ichigo’s eyes and turning his bones to water. Slowly, Renji’s mouth pulled up in this wide grin, as if he’d figured out a secret, something heartwarming and sweet, sly.

Before Ichigo could think to react more than letting his eyes widen and his breath freeze in his lungs, Renji pushed himself off of his car and started walking the other way with his hand raised over his head. “I’ll see you later then. Text me tomorrow!”

Ichigo watched him go, heart pounding, but Renji didn’t turn around again, hands going into his pockets as he headed back the way they’d come.

He hurriedly got in the car and stared forward for a moment, letting out a shaky breath, then let his head thud against the steering wheel.

 

_‘Brilliant.'_


	11. Ichigo Gets the Guy

Ichigo has yet again changed his mind and decided not to give up just yet, because he was a big softy, and he was completely weak for Renji’s warm smile.

However, the caveat was that he’d adjusted his goals to be a bit more realistic and has set his hopes on friendship rather than a relationship.

On a positive note, things were going _great_ on the gain-Renji’s-friendship front. He’d been texting Renji throughout the week, and they seemed to be growing closer all the time. At the very least, Ichigo would now consider them buddies.

They’d been spending time together too, and although the flirting hadn’t stopped, it hadn’t escalated either. Ichigo had resigned himself to the fact that Renji just had a flirty personality and was only messing with him and wanted to turn him into another of his bros. It was just something he’d have to bear.

What Ichigo did wonder about was the fact that he knew Renji had hundreds of friends, and yet he spent a significant amount of time texting _him._ He knew he couldn’t be the only one trying to get a hold of Renji, and yet he was the one he chose to talk to. Whatever, it just made Ichigo wonder. Stupid hope. He couldn’t get rid of it completely.

Anyways, yeah, they’d been hanging out too. Several times now, Renji had sent him photo updates or even invites to various bleeding-heart causes he was participating in. Ichigo had come to rake and bag leaves around campus and had helped rescue a feral cat stuck in a mud-logged drain pipe; Renji didn’t seem to try to include any of his other various friends in these things the way he did Ichigo.

It was weird, because there were official things that were actual community service events that Renji would bother to try and get people to come to, and he’d invite Ichigo to those. Then there were other things like rescuing that cat that weren’t any coordinated effort, but just Renji and his love for animals, Renji and his big loving heart, and the only other person he thought to include was _Ichigo,_ he let Ichigo be a part of that.

And Ichigo, damn him, he just couldn’t help it. He said yes every fucking time Renji would have him.

It’s not like Ichigo was only doing it just because he wanted to be around Renji either. I mean, that was _part_ of the reason, but he actually was finding that he… _liked_ it. It got him out of the house, and there were never too many people there, making it easier for him to socialize. So yeah, they’d been doing community service together and getting to know each other, and let Ichigo tell you, the flirting had _not_ stopped.

Half the time Ichigo wondered if they were just playing this complicated game where they pretended they both didn’t like each other and were just playing ‘chicken’ on who would break first and say they did actually like the other, and the other half of the time, Ichigo thought he was just reading too much into it, because Renji seemed to do it to other people too.

But yeah, Renji was really flirty as always – however, to be fair, it hadn’t gone anywhere near into the up close and personal territory that it had _that day_ at the river cleanup. It was more harmless, less personal, and y’know, ambiguous, meaning Ichigo still was doing the _‘_ _should-I shouldn’t-I’_ dance.

Grimmjow’s advice was to just send a dick pic and be _done_ with the whole thing.

 

 

Ichigo smiled. It was hard to be hurt over there being no chance of ever being Renji’s boyfriend when Renji kept pestering him all day. Ichigo had hardly had time to miss him this week.

 

 

As always, once Renji realized Ichigo was there, he’d answer back right away, the ‘typing’ bubble popping up almost instantaneously after the ‘read’ time appeared beneath Ichigo’s messages. Ichigo didn’t even know how he typed as fast as he did, but he never usually had to wait long.

  

 

He couldn’t help but smile when the message was marked as read the second it was sent, and Renji started typing right away. He could imagine that dork just standing there downtown with his plate of cake, phone in one hand, glaring at Ichigo’s snark.

 

 

Ichigo smirked. Walked right into that one. He loved fucking with Renji. He'd sent his reply back almost at the same time as Ichigo’s message, as if having anticipated it, and Ichigo grinned, watching as Renji began typing again. A few moments passed before another picture appeared.

 

 

Ichigo let his phone rest next to his hand while he did his homework at his desk, his pencil sometimes making it into his hand and dangling there as he reread previous messages and waited for Renji’s replies. He didn’t know how he got anything done anymore – in fact, he usually relied on Renji becoming busy or something and not being able to talk for a few hours, because Ichigo had no willpower to stop on his own. 

Ichigo bit his cheek in a failed attempt at stopping a smile.

 

 

Smiling, Ichigo bit at his lips a bit in consideration, then typed out something that he’d been wondering for a while. He’d been waiting to see if maybe Renji might be receptive to deeper questioning, but still wasn’t quite sure. At this point, he thought… well, fuck it.

Even so, it took him a while to get up the courage, more than ten minutes passing before he could make himself hit send.

 

 

The typing bubble appeared right away as usual, then stopped. Ichigo watched as it popped up again, then went away, and didn’t come back. He kept staring for a time and tried to be patient, but couldn’t help but tug on his bangs and regret having asked.

 

 

Ichigo waited a few moments for more, because sometimes Renji would send a bunch of messages in a row, but nothing else came.

Taking a brave breath and figuring he might have to prompt him a bit more, even though that had been a pretty clear ‘fuck off,’ Ichigo tried again.

 

 

There came no answer, not even a ‘typing’ bubble, for more than ten minutes. Ichigo really knew he’d stuck his foot in it then, because he could see that Renji had read what he’d said right away, as usual, but he wasn’t answering. Shit, he’d fucked it up. He should’ve known that he couldn’t hope to be the one Renji told weird personal things to. He should’ve just left it alone.

Ichigo checked his phone again sporadically, and just as he was about to throw it across the room in a fit of panic and anger, it pinged.

Heart speeding up a bit even though it shouldn’t be as big a deal as it was, Ichigo immediately replied.

  

 

After Renji’s vague and reticent answer, he didn’t say anything else for another worryingly long period. By then Ichigo wasn’t even pretending to do his homework anymore, just drumming his fingers nervously and checking for messages over and over even though he had no idea how long Renji would make him wait.

When he finally did answer, it was more than he’d expected, and Ichigo reread it several times as Renji sent a second even longer one.

 

 

Ichigo just stared at the screen, lips parted, brow tensed.

For some reason, he thought back to that weird-seeming comment Renji had made a while back that day when he’d just suddenly sat by Ichigo in class and started talking to him out of the blue, about how he didn’t want to lead a worthless life, how he was going to do stuff.

Ichigo stared at the words, reread them, pondered how strange they sounded in comparison to the usually confident, cheerful, energetic air Renji usually had.

Did Renji feel unaccomplished? Worthless? Was that how he really felt about himself?

The ‘typing’ bubble popped up again and disappeared a couple times, almost hesitantly, before Ichigo’s eyes.

 

 

Blinking, Ichigo typed a reply rather numbly. After that, Renji sent a frenzy of messages, one after the other.

 

 

Ichigo frowned in confusion. Was Renji embarrassed? Did he think Ichigo thought he was a wimp or something, or weird? Trying to stop him, Ichigo answered again.

 

 

Renji paused then, the bubble going away, and Ichigo managed in his troubled mental state to type a bit more, to which Renji readily replied.

 

 

Ichigo stared at the screen a bit more and just let it run back and forth in his head that Renji had insecurities too, that he worried about where he’d go in life, that as good as he was with people and however many friends he had, he still had those things too, those worries and fears and scars of the past.

 

 

That snapped him out of it, and he leapt to answer, because it hit him all of a sudden that Renji had shared that with him, Renji had opened up and said something really personal, and then had thought that maybe Ichigo thought less of him maybe, that he didn’t take it as a show of trust, but of weakness. He was going to close himself off again if Ichigo didn't do something.

 

 

He bit his lip, thumbs hovering above the screen as he wondered what he could say to be comforting – would comfort scare Renji off, would it...? He felt like he was balancing on a spider’s thread, what could he do, what can he do?

 

 

Immediately, it was brushed off.

 

 

Ichigo sighed and pressed the phone to his forehead for a minute, digging deep, and even though it was tough, it was nowhere near as tough as it should’ve been to say what he did then. It took him a while to type and back check, but sending it didn’t feel wrong at all.

 

 

Ichigo watched as the message was read, and bit his lip, typing some more.

 

 

After that, Renji didn’t answer, and Ichigo turned his phone screen off and tossed it across the room onto his bed and placed his head on his desk, his hands clasping at the back of his neck. He’d overdone it. Shit.

_‘Ping.’_

Ichigo’s head popped up in disbelief and he fucking _dove_ for his bed, landing in a heap and crawling for his phone.

 

 

Ichigo didn’t know how healthy it was for his heart to go through all these sharp dips of dread and then elation, but it was pretty wild. He bit his lip and answered.

 

 

Renji answered freely again then, right away, to Ichigo’s great relief. Suddenly flustered, Ichigo tried to divert.

 

 

Blushing furiously, Ichigo reread the next lines over and over until they were burned into his retinas and appeared on his bedspread when he looked away.

 

 

Finding it in him to reply, he nearly fucking threw his phone again and sputtered when Renji teased him back.

 

 

Ichigo glared at the screen. This fucker. He pressed each key deliberately, even though it was a fucking touch-screen, as if he could push his aggravation through into the characters.

Renji, always getting a kick from riling Ichigo up, expressed his hilarity at Ichigo’s rage, to which Ichigo sighed and grimaced, resting his cheek on his arm and gazing at the screen.

 

 

A touch of a tired smile twitched his lip.

 

 

. . .

 

After that, it wasn't clear how or why, things somehow changed. Everything felt eerily similar, but it was definitely, in some significant way, _different._

They still hung out just the same, they still texted, all normal. There weren’t many discernible differences, more of a general change in atmosphere. The flirting had lessened – well, not really, but it had become more subtle.

It was less of Renji joking around and more of Renji smiling at him for longer or looking at him kind of funny, like he was thinking about something.

The teasing and flirting grew less obnoxious, but more substantial. They talked about more meaningful things. They worked together in class. Renji confided in him. Things seemed to have changed in the dead of night, and Ichigo didn't know how, didn't know what he had done to make Renji notice him and look at him as though he were some fascinating puzzle.

The next time they had class together after that initial text conversation, they were real cool with each other for the entire time, and worked hard during a group project and presentation. The one place Renji didn’t fuck with him much was during class, because of how seriously he took his schooling, but he did deign to wink at Ichigo while their group was presenting to the class.

Once class was over, Renji sidled up to him, adjusting his backpack and standing there waiting while Ichigo put his stuff in his bag. “Hey Ichigo, you wanna’ see me sometime?”

Sure, Ichigo was free for another of these things.

He rewinded his brain. Wait, that sentence had ended wrong. He'd reflexively assumed Renji was asking him to another charity stint, but wait... Not ‘Ichigo, you wanna’ work a shift at the food drive?’ He wanted to  _s_ _ee_ him? Like… as in, a _date?_

Ichigo’s head snapped up, and all of a sudden, it made sense what had changed. ' _Holy shit, it's happening.'_

“Yes.” Spine straight as a metal rod, Ichigo blinked at Renji in bewilderment and tried not to act like everything in the world had just exploded, burst into an excited flush of color. Everything was normal, everything was chill, and cool, and so was Ichigo.

He cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah,” he amended, but his startled expression likely didn’t change.

“Great,” Renji replied, grinning easily. “Let’s hang out this weekend.”

It was a good thing that Ichigo had been too stunned to smile in the first place, because if he hadn’t been, any smile may have just slipped off at those words.

 _‘Oh shit,_ not _a date?’_ he thought, furiously running the words back, over-analyzing. _‘_ _The way he said it made it sound like it was definitely a date, but then he said ‘hang out.’’_

Woefully and with a certain desperation, Ichigo curled his toes up in his shoes. _‘Fuck, no one says ‘do you want to see me’ when they’re talking about friends - it's a fucking_  date, _Kurosaki..._ _But ‘hang out’ is so ambiguous…’_

Renji’s body language didn’t give him any hints, since he was completely at ease, his relaxed posture screaming nonchalance, which could mean fucking anything.

_‘Damn, I can’t tell with him, he’s so… ah fuck.’_

Ichigo had no way to be sure, since they’d never even ‘hung out’ together in a strictly social sense _alone._ It was always for some reason or other, doing work around the city or campus grounds.

He might as well give it a try though and see what happened. It's not like he was going to say  _no,_ he wasn't insane.

“Sure," he agreed with a tone of eagerness that he couldn't completely banish from his voice. "… So, what'll we do?”

He was expecting a rave or a club or a party – the last thing he’d anticipated to come out of Renji’s mouth was: “There’s a fair – we can go to the monster-truck derby.”

"..." He just lingered there, standing with his mouth ajar, no words coming out.

Renji blinked and frowned when Ichigo didn’t respond with immediate enthusiasm. “… What,” he asked, brow pinching down in a troubled fashion. “What, you don’t like trucks?” he said with his smile gone and this suspicious and borderline _heartbroken_ look on his face, as if truck-hating was a genuine dealbreaker for him.

“Oh no,” Ichigo hurried to say, scratching the back of his neck and still wondering if this was some kind of Benadryl-induced fever dream, “I just didn’t expect…”

“What?” Renji prompted, still scrutinizing him a bit.

“Ah- Nothing,” he stuttered, trying to get it under control. Holy fuck, Renji had asked him out! They were going to hang out! He'd never thought something like this could happen to him. He'd never expected that the person he liked might want to be with him too.

“What?” Renji insisted stubbornly, brow pulling down harshly, and Ichigo mentally slapped himself -  _snap out of it!_

“Uh, well, I kinda’ thought you’d wanna’ go to a club or something,” he admitted, not mentally sound enough to cook up a lie in time.

Renji’s brows eased, and he shifted his weight and put on a curious expression. “Yeah? How come?”

Ichigo scratched his neck some more and looked down towards the front of the room. Most of their classmates had already left by now, only a few stragglers remaining to talk to the professor about project grades. “You’ve kinda’ got this party-animal reputation, so...” Ichigo paused, considering, “I thought a good time for you would be something a lot more…” He started over, “Just a lot more.”

Renji finally smiled a bit then, one side of his mouth pulling up as he sighed a bit in a half-laugh. “Ahh yeah, well,” he explained, “to be honest, I’m kinda’ worn out with the club scene.” He stretched his shoulders a bit, looking off where Ichigo was looking for a second. “But I knew we'd like the same things.”

Ichigo furtively glanced to Renji’s face and bit his lips, heart swelling and fluttering. His voice took on a thick enthusiasm then, the shine coming into his eyes as his grin spread to maximum power. “Watching a big-ass truck crush a pile a’ cars, that’s where it’s at!”

Ichigo tried to smile back, but mostly just stood agog at Renji’s excited smile. It suddenly eased as Renji’s eyes turned on him and softened. Ichigo stood straighter and tried to look casual. “You, uh…” Renji said a bit quieter, peering at him with this warm look on his face, “You wanna’ come?” He grinned again then, “It’s gonna’ be awesome!”

“Okay,” he agreed, feeling breathless.

Eyes held prisoner against Renji’s, Ichigo nearly sagged with relief when Renji finally took pity on him and rested his bum on their desk and let him free, glancing away. “Just you an’ me, of course,” Renji clarified, and Ichigo felt like a cartoon-character, heating up red from his toes to the top of his head.

_'Just us! I think it really is a date!’_

“If that’s cool,” he said when Ichigo didn’t respond, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure, yeah.”

Renji was casual as hell about this whole thing, and kept giving him that crinkley smile he did like he thought Ichigo was weird or stupid or cute, whereas Ichigo was a million miles from casual.

When he got back to the dorm – floated back, flew back, who knows how he got there – he looked up the fair event immediately, which was that Saturday – fuck, _tomorrow._

He pulled his dresser drawers open and rifled through his clothes, all the while his heart aflutter with this anxious, nervous, _excited_ feeling. The buds were stirring, they were rattling around at the motions of a red-head woodpecker on their branch. Ichigo felt distinctly jittery and really… well, fucking ecstatic.

Renji wanted to see him socially, _just the two of them,_ and not for any other reason than to hang out. No pizza-eating contest, no volunteering in the bull-ring, no patrolling for drunk cowboys – no craziness. Just the two of them together, having a good time with some greasy food, farm animals, and cheap rides.

He vaguely heard Grimmjow call him a couple times, and felt something hard bounce off of his back, but didn’t acknowledge him until he came up behind him and leaned over his shoulder to try and see what he was doing. “’Tsup,” Grimmjow grunted, bearing over Ichigo, who was completely distracted.

“Clothes for a-” he tried to answer, absently, then suddenly registered that Grimmjow was there. He let his clothes drop back into the drawer for a second and looked up, and without even thinking, numbly told him, “Grimm, I think I have a date.”

The problem with Grimmjow was that you couldn’t tell him things. Or very rarely.

There _were_ those times when Ichigo had thought he wasn’t listening and then Grimmjow had brought it up months later at an inconvenient moment to screw Ichigo in an argument or simply as a surprising and unexpected display of recall, but ninety percent of the time, if Ichigo had concerns or what have you, Grimmjow either dismissed them entirely out of hand, got pissed, or did something else that was completely unhelpful.

Ichigo's aware that Grimmjow knew about his crush on Renji, because it had come up several times now, but whenever it did, usually Grimmjow just used it as an opportunity to fuck with him. Even though it probably would’ve been smarter to keep it to himself that things might be getting more serious, in his nervous excitement and uncertainty, Ichigo had just let it slip out that this was really… _real._

He really liked Renji.

“Bullshit,” Grimmjow predictably scoffed, as Ichigo turned back to his dresser and pulled out the middle drawer. Grimmjow stepped back a step, but stayed nearby. “No you don’t.”

“No, really.” Ichigo crouched by the drawer but looked up for a minute as he said it, brow pulled down in a slight scowl.

“Oh yeah? _Who.”_

“You know who!” Ichigo snapped, standing up straight. “I’m serious.”

Grimmjow gave a skeptical eyeroll. “Okay, whatever, I know you’ve been ‘hanging out’ or some shit, but-”

“No, for real,” Ichigo insisted, cutting through Grimmjow and his stupid air-quotes.

“- _date_ is just.” He grimaced, showing Ichigo just what he thought of getting to know somebody.

“Grimm, stop fucking around.” Ichigo started digging through his clothes again, ah god, what does he wear to a _fair?_ “We’re going out together tomorrow.”

“Wha-haaat?”

“I think he asked me out,” he said, “Like… as a date.” He let it through in his voice a little bit, he showed Grimmjow this feeling, showed him the tiny buds that have been hoping and waiting patiently for spring.

Grimmjow stared for a minute, seeming to finally believe him. “Dude, you two’re totally gonna’ fuck.”

“Be serious!” Ichigo snapped, hitting him on the arm, to which Grimmjow just laughed and smirked.

“Ahaa-!” He grabbed Ichigo around the neck and dug his fist into his head, twisting it around in a way-too-rough noogie. “Aw, dude, I knew it was a matter of time.”

After Ichigo got free, Grimmjow congratulated him and bet that they’d end up fucking in a portable toilet. Ichigo brushed him off grumpily and walked back and forth in front of his dresser, looking for his good jeans.

 _‘Oh snap, that’s right!’_ he remembered. He had to get condoms! A conflicting wave of dread and excitement raised goosebumps all over his back. Until Grimmjow had said it, it hadn't really occurred to him that they might kiss or… do more.

That gave a whole different feeling to the date, and he thought of it with a sort of delirious panic. He was going out with Renji, and everyone knows what Renji took you out to do. Ichigo had to be prepared for the night to end with him losing his virginity.

Unfortunately, Grimmjow had made that connection too, and would not shut up about it. He was singing _Cherry Pop_ again in a distasteful show of hilarity.

This was why he couldn’t tell Grimmjow things.


	12. Ichigo Has a Date

_This is your heart; can you feel it? Can you feel it?_

_. . ._

 

So yeah, they went on the date. Even though it was less than a twenty-four hour span from when Renji had initially asked him to 'hang out' to the actual time they were supposed to leave, to Ichigo it felt like it took forever just for the morning to roll around, and then even longer for the afternoon to arrive. However, the hours did eventually pass and the date happened.

Renji picked him up at the agreed meeting spot: in the campus parking lot. Apparently they were taking Renji's truck.

“Hey,” he greeted as Ichigo walked up to the car, and for a moment they stood there and stared at each other.

“Hey,” Ichigo repeated.

“…” Renji beamed at him and just looked at him for a long time. Ichigo tried his best to smile back, feeling somewhat shy. “So,” Renji said, clapping his hands together. “Wanna’ get going?” Ichigo nodded mutely and walked around to the far side of the car, hopping up to get in.

He sat in the stupid front seat that didn’t really have a partition of any kind, meaning that at any moment – if he weren’t wearing his seatbelt – if Renji were to turn too sharply, Ichigo would slide down. At least they had a lot of leg room. After starting the car and pulling out of the drive to leave campus, Renji nudged Ichigo’s knee with his own to get his attention, just as Ichigo had decided to try breaking the silence himself.

“S-”

“Oh, sorry,” Ichigo hurriedly said, after having interrupted Renji at the same time to talk.

“No, you go.” Renji smiled, and Ichigo cleared his throat.

“Uh, so what do you know about this fair?” he wondered, because he hadn’t been able to find out much about the event. “I mean, besides the car-wrecking things.”

“Ah, well, they have rides and stuff,” Renji noted, to which Ichigo nodded, “y’know, normal carnival.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Petting farm.”

“Oh.”

Renji glanced to him a few times, quickly, to try and look at him while still watching the road. “So, d’you like animals?”

Ichigo hummed, grateful that there hadn’t been any seriously awkward silences yet. Sometimes he just didn’t know what to say around Renji. In the beginning he'd gotten a little more nervous than he'd expected to be, but it was starting to ease away some now. “Mm, I guess,” he considered. “I’ve never really had a pet. Didn’t see the point.”

“Aw, too bad.” Renji smiled out the windshield, and then was conspicuously silent.

“Is this your way of telling me you want to see the petting farm?” Ichigo guessed reluctantly. Renji snorted.

“Heh’, maybe.” He flashed Ichigo a grin before turning forward again. “I like animals. I’m a sucker for ‘em. ‘Specially dogs.” His smile became a bit wry then, eyes lowering. “I like bunnies too.”

“Pff’,” Ichigo mumbled, “Bunnies.”

“Hey!” came the vehement protest, “They’re sensitive caring creatures!”

“Whatever.” Ichigo rolled his eyes. “I wanna’ see the horses.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

Renji had apparently been very excited about the fair and the monster trucks – it hadn’t fully registered until they got out of the car and walked through the field-lots towards the entrance booth to buy tickets, but Ichigo soon noticed that Renji was wearing cowboy boots, a belt with a huge buckle – which wasn’t actually out of the ordinary – and a black cowboy hat around his neck, and by all accounts, he should look absolutely ridiculous, but strangely, Grimmjow’s suggestion of ‘jump on his dick’ kept replaying loudly in Ichigo’s ear like radio static regardless.

Ichigo soon forgot his nervousness, because Renji was an infectiously confident and relaxed person, but the longer they were there, the more it became apparent that Renji knew a _lot_ of people. He’d never really thought about it before, but Ichigo had kind of assumed that Renji always was running into friends on campus because he was a lovable extrovert and had made a lot of friends at school, but apparently there was no end to it. It seemed like every few chattered anecdotes from Renji and blunt comments from Ichigo, the guy was slapped on the shoulder and greeted by people Ichigo had never fucking seen before – although they occasionally greeted him too, as though they knew him, which was endlessly confusing.

It also was a bit frustrating, because Renji had to keep stopping in the middle of his stories to say ‘hi’ to people, among other things.

He wasn’t exactly nervous anymore, but he _was_ kind of obsessing over whether or not this was really a romantic date or whether he’d just mistakenly thought it was. He was waiting for some sort of blaringly obvious sign, but there still hadn’t been any real indication that it was a date, other than Renji having licked his snow cone earlier – ‘Hey, that was mine!’ – and his occasional jet too close into his personal space when he was pointing to something in the distance – ‘No, _that’s_ the horse barn.’ – or leaning close to talk privately about the people at the picnic bench next to them – ‘How can anyone eat that much fried chicken at one time?’

After a while, the wondering became so unbearable that Ichigo thought maybe he should make his own move. Should he try holding Renji’s hand? He didn’t think Renji would refuse if he tried to do so – Renji was smiling at him an awful lot, and he’d _winked_ earlier. No, no, he’d wait for a clearer sign…

Finally, Ichigo’s troubled confused thoughts abated into a low and vaguely unhappy buzz. He didn’t think he started having fun until Renji convinced the jerky guy next to them to try spitting while on the Gravitron, and had then proceeded to turn upside down while the guy had screeched about the saliva in his eyes. Ichigo had laughed so hard that he couldn’t stop even after they got off the ride, and kept laughing for so long that he almost threw up. He did have fun, so much that he didn’t really think about the fact that he was probably going to get fucked tonight until much later, when the maybe-date was more than halfway over.

They’d ridden the rides, they’d looked at the animals, and Renji had pet all the rabbits – and now here they were on the bleachers, and Ichigo was watching this man, this loveable frustrating idiot fold pizza that was dripping grease in half like it was a paper airplane and just shove it down, and Ichigo thought he was done for, because he was  _still_ handsome even with food on his face.

“I told you, I don’t care if you can eat things in one bite. _Why_ do people do that, it's not impressive.”

Renji just made muffled I-told-you-so sounds and tried to chew. Of course, then he had junk all over his fingers, slick and shiny from low-quality cheese.

He looked down at Ichigo’s hand where it rested on his leg and then back to his own nasty hands, and Ichigo got a sudden thrill, the hair on his neck standing up. Had Renji thought about, just for a second-?!

“Aw man, wish I’d thought to grab napkins,” Renji mumbled glumly after he’d finally swallowed, and then picked his teeth with his tongue.

“Just use your bandanna as a handkerchief,” Ichigo suggested, at which a shutter of darkness visibly fell over Renji’s face.

“No.”

Ichigo wrinkled his nose a little. “Why not?” Renji shrugged and clearly sulked, looking away and still holding his hands out carefully so as to not touch anything. “Dude.”

“Everyone’ll stare at my eyebrows, okay?” Renji spat, sotto voce, eyes darting around. Ichigo started laughing, but Renji was serious, which wiped the smile off his face.

He cleared his throat and, grimacing, said, “They probably just stare because they look metal.” When no answer readily came, Ichigo glanced to his left, only to see Renji staring at him with his mouth hanging.

Ichigo blinked in surprise, and Renji visibly startled, straightening up, still staring with eyes boggling, and just as it seemed that he was about to say something, the derby started. Renji’s eyes were drawn away for a brief moment and then back to Ichigo, and whatever he’d been going to say was lost – but to Ichigo's amazement, his face started to turn red.  _Very_ red.

“Quit playin’,” he mumbled grumpily, and then stuck his hands in the tops of his boots and wiped them on his jeans, down near his ankles. Ichigo fought off a smile and sat on his hands to squeeze the shakes out of them.

Then they watched the derby. Renji was super pumped for watching some cars get wrecked, and although it was cool enough, Ichigo got more of a kick out of how excited Renji got every time someone crashed into someone else and how big his eyes got every time an engine exploded and caught fire – and though neither of them acknowledged it, they were definitely sitting a little closer than they had been before.

 

. . .

 

After they got down from the bleachers, Renji still seemed to be riding some sort of energy-high, grinning and bounding down the steps, ever careful not to lose Ichigo in the massive noisy crowd – not that it would’ve been easy to do, since they both had very distinct hairstyles.

He ducked in near Ichigo's ear for a second to tell him over the noise, “Lemme’ smoke real quick."

Taking shelter under the huge steel bleachers, Ichigo hung around with him down there while he lit up.

Ichigo leaned against a metal support beam, hands in his pockets, and watched Renji smile around his cigarette. It was dark, but street-lights were posted along the paved corridor that ran behind the bleachers. There was still a lot of noise coming from the stadium, thousands of footsteps and voices, but he was still able to easily hear Renji when he mentioned, “So I hear you got into a lot of fights in school.”

Ichigo inwardly sighed. It seemed like Renji had heard a lot about him, and he was endlessly confused as to who these people were and how they knew who he was and what he’d done in high school. “Yeah? So?” he grunted, maybe a bit crankily.

“You’re _that_ kid, huh?” Renji noted, exhaling smoke, turning his head away and low to do so.

“Hm?” Ichigo leaned his head back against the uncomfortable metal, gazing up into the streetlight. “How do you mean?”

Renji smirked and played with his lighter a bit, and Ichigo watched him take a drag. He didn’t smoke with his knuckles or chew on the filter like Grimmjow did, instead pinching the butt between his thumb and forefinger, never leaving it in his mouth when he wasn’t breathing through it. “You know,” he muttered with a dark smile, “punk, rascal. Troubled mind.” He took another drag and let the smoke come out on the words, “You’ve got the look.”

Ichigo furrowed his brow indignantly, opting to cross his arms and close his eyes. “You’ve got no room to talk about looks,” he scoffed, and then argued, giving Renji and his stupid smirk and knowing eyes a glare and a pointing finger. “And hey, I had great grades for-” he sputtered, “most of high school!”

Renji smiled and shook his head. “Nah, I get it.” Ichigo humphed. “No, I do.” Renji let his arm drop, his cigarette held near his thigh, carefully pointed away, his suddenly thoughtful and almost sad eyes gazing out at the thinning crowd as it passed. “People lookin’ atcha’ funny, like you’re always about to do something you’re not supposed to. Don’t belong. No one’s got any faith in your success,” he mumbled, almost like he’d forgotten he was even talking to somebody, and Ichigo had to wonder again if that was what Renji’s fears were, if that’s what he didn’t want more than anything: to amount to nothing, to fail, to be unhappy.

More eerie even than that was Ichigo’s own teenaged thoughts echoing back to him, as if he were caught in an echo chamber, a vacuum, hearing only his own woes and worries bouncing off the walls back to him over and over.

“An’ you’re sad, an’ lonely,” Renji murmured, mindlessly bringing his cigarette back to his lips, and then blinking through a haze, eyes wandering back to Ichigo, finally seeming to register his presence again. Ichigo just stared at him, frowning. “But all you do is fight and try anyway, to exceed all those shitty expectations.” A wry smirk crossed Renji’s mouth. “I get that.”

“You don’t know me, Renji,” Ichigo growled, feeling alarmingly transparent and hating it, fearing it more than anything else.

“‘Mai wrong?” Renji raised his eyebrows, took one last drag and then put his cigarette out carefully on the bottom of his boot, checked it for any residual embers, and then walked with it to a trash-bin, flicking it away.

“Pssh’. I don’t fucking understand you,” he grumbled, hands shoved into the tight pockets of his jeans, eyes cast askance. Renji gave a loud laugh, hands on his hips.

“We’re more alike than you think.”

Ichigo raised a skeptical eyebrow, face in a deadpan. “What, is that why we get along so well?” Renji’s cheeks puffed in a sputtering laugh.

“Pff’, what’re you tryin’a’ say!” he tried, failing at putting on even a semblance of indignance as he accused, “We only argue ‘cause a’ you!”

“Oh, yeah right!” Ichigo couldn’t help but smile at that, because Renji burst out laughing again and bopped him on the head. They snickered a little and started heading back in the dark among the stragglers.

After stretching with a loud and dramatic groan of satisfaction, Renji, chatty as always, wondered, “You ever think about what you’re gonna’ do when you get outta’ here?” watching Ichigo closely for his response, “-what kinda’ life you want?”

“You think about this stuff an awful lot, don’t you,” Ichigo noted, to which Renji shrugged slowly and kept waiting for an answer. Sighing, Ichigo had to think. “I just kinda’ go with it, I guess.” He gave a stretch of his own, cracking his neck. “Have for a while.”

“You don’t dream?” Ichigo looked up to see Renji staring forward with a sort of troubled frown. “No… no goal?” he prompted, looking back to Ichigo, who shrugged.

Almost hesitantly, in a low mumble, Renji pushed, “You never want a change?” When Ichigo didn’t readily respond, he went on, “You never hope something crazy will happen and make your life a thousand times better?”

Ichigo frowned. “I don’t believe in fate or luck or any of that.”

“No?” Renji frowned back. “So everything happens for a reason then?”

Considering it, Ichigo mused, “I think everyone’s in control one way or another of how their life turns out.” Sighing, he muttered, “But sometimes stuff just happens, and you’ve gotta’ deal.”

“No matter how bad it gets?”

“What else.”

Renji was quiet for a while, and then grunted, grimacing. “Isn’t that kinda’ bleak?” His voice went softer then. “Don’t you get heartsick?” he wondered, “For someone else in the world to give a fuck for you?”

Renji got serious with him a lot. He had been for the last week or so, pegging him with these existential questions that were crammed to the brim with… _something,_ something far too powerful, even if it was only a single drop of the stuff. Even a drop was too much, welling with this dark troubling personal emotion, something that was too close to home, too vulnerable.

Ichigo wondered if he did that with everyone.

“I dunno’, maybe. Sometimes,” he said quietly. Renji didn’t reply and stared forward into the dark for a time, walking by his side quietly.

He then gave out a gusty frustrated sigh, and complained, “Ah, why’d you get all serious. I won’t be able ta’ drive like this.”

“It wasn’t me, you fucker!” Ichigo snapped, then folded his arms. “You brought it up.”

“Huh?” Renji hummed stupidly, acting like he couldn’t hear him, “What?”

“You motherfucker!”

“Hahahaaa,” he teased, grinning widely, “You have a short temper, One-two-three.” Ichigo glared heatedly then, because this was real now.

“Yo, don’t call me that,” he snarled, whacking Renji on the arm. “I'm serious! Only my sister gets to do that!” Renji just kept laughing, like he found his irritation amusing.

“Hahaha.” 

“You-” Ichigo burst, fingers contorting and cheeks bulging as he fought to think of something that would tick Renji off just as bad, and only coming up with, “Fucking Orange Juice!”

Renji abruptly stopped laughing. “Don’t fuck around, Ichigo.”

Ichigo gave a wry smirk, narrowing his eyes, because he had him now. “O-Renji Juus-”

“Hey, you little shit!” Renji whipped around and tried to hit him, but Ichigo ducked. Not pursuing it, Renji merely glared threateningly and tensed his arms.

Ichigo snickered a bit, and because Renji was fucking right about him being a little shit, he teased, “Oh, does that tick you off?”

“You smug bastard, you just wait!”

It was quiet for a long time, their smiles eventually fading as they walked side by side, making it off the paved area and onto the dirt road that would eventually lead out to the fields where they’d been directed to park.

“Renji?” Ichigo eventually mumbled thoughtfully.

“Hm?”

“What about you? Were you lonely as a kid?” His words hung in the stillness of the night for a time, only the sounds of distant voices and cars and the wind floating in and out of perception.

“No.”

“Oh.” Ichigo didn’t bother to push it that time, not wanting a repeat of the heart attack he’d gotten last time he’d tried to get Renji to divulge. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Renji to get nosy and ask all sorts of personal questions of him, try to pry him open and pick him apart, but it didn’t seem to go both ways. If there was one thing that was obvious on a talkative person, it was when they finally fucking clammed up, and Renji would do it as quickly as flicking a light switch on and off.

“I had someone to give a fuck for.”

“Oh.” Ichigo felt silly suddenly at Renji’s gruff reply, because duh, _Rukia._ “Good,” he said awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Renji murmured, “Best thing in the world.”

Ichigo swallowed, able to feel the intensity of the pain and nostalgia behind those words just in the silence that followed them and the emotionless tone that had echoed in them. “And… now?” he ventured hesitantly, pushing his luck.

“What do you mean?” The flat tone wasn’t completely gone from Renji’s voice, and the usual curious spark to his eyes seemed tired and dim in the dark.

“So, you don’t get… that way – heartsick – anymore?” Ichigo clarified uncertainly, “While you’re waiting for the one.” He immediately regretted saying it, feeling idiotic, but Renji just let a ghost of a laugh out his nose, his usual smile creeping back.

“Heh’. I’m hanging around for a stroke of fate.” He gave Ichigo a wry smirk then, his eyes almost black in the starlight. “But maybe you’re right about that stuff.”

It was quiet again for a time, and Renji stared off into the sky with a sort of silent wonder and thoughtfulness. Feeling vaguely sick with nerves, Ichigo clenched a fist and looked away, blurting out, “Well sometimes I could use some crazy.”

Renji eyes were drawn back curiously, and Ichigo cleared his throat, not wanting to let those awkward words linger. “You’ve got plenty a’ that.”

“Hey now, easy!” Renji laughed, and Ichigo smiled as they finally came across the right crossroad to walk back to the parking areas, walking with families and other groups of friends.

On the way back to Renji’s pick-up, they bullshitted, they laughed and fucked around, and Renji slung an arm over Ichigo’s shoulder – similar to how Grimmjow sometimes did, but Renji’s hand just ruffled his hair instead of grinding his scalp away in a brutal noogie.

This had been fun, having Renji all to himself for the day. Ichigo was sad that it had to end. He hoped Renji would ask him again…

As Renji drove them back in the pitch-dark, they talked for a time, and eventually silence fell. Ichigo sleepily let his head rest on the seat and watched Renji’s face light up every time a car passed.

“Renji?” he finally mumbled, blinking to wake himself up. Renji didn’t so much as hum in reply, but he thought maybe he’d glanced to him, because he heard a rustle of hair.

“Was this a date?” he asked, so quietly that if it backfired, he could’ve denied that he’d said anything at all, that it had been the car going over a bump, a weird sound from within the dark trees they were driving through.

No answer came, but after a few moments, Renji pulled off the road into a paved lot, empty of anything but a dumpster – there wasn’t even a streetlight. Ichigo picked his head up and tried to get a look at Renji, whose face was unreadable in the dark.

Renji put them in park, and Ichigo wiped his eye, the apprehension in his gut serving to bring him to full alertness immediately. “What’re you doing?” he muttered, “Why’d we stop?”

As the engine went silent and the headlights turned off, plunging them into darkness, leaving Ichigo in this terrifying moment or two of sensory deprivation, Renji suddenly whispered to him in the blackness.

“I’ve been dyin’a’ kiss you all day.”

Unable to speak, throat closed up and breath frozen, Ichigo sat motionless, every bone and muscle and hair absolutely rigid. This was it. This was the part everyone's prepared him for. Renji really was going to move on him. 

A moment or two of silence passed but for Renji’s breath, and finally he muttered uncertainly, “You’re not saying anything…” Hesitantly drawing back, he said, “I pushed too fast,” his normal voice suddenly seeming far too loud, breaking the dark and the stillness and dispelling all the tension of the moment.

“Look, I thought-” he apologized, “Hey sorry.” He turned on the electrical part of the car so that the interior light came on, and Ichigo squinted against the suddenly harsh seeming light to see Renji looking at him with his brows scrunched in concern.

“Look, I was just tryin’a’ be smooth, I didn’t mean ta’ scare you.”

Released from his heightened state of fright and excitement just as suddenly as it had seized him, Ichigo blurted, “No!” to which Renji’s eyes popped open. Ichigo then tried to act as though he didn’t care, when really he was practically about to burst from anticipation. “Pff, you couldn’t scare a baby with that dopey face.”

With a rather confused expression, Renji then muttered, “So… it’s cool then?”

Ichigo shrugged and looked down at the seat between them. “I mean, it’s whatever, I don’t care.” He said it, but he didn’t mean it. He did care. Ichigo was blushing fiercely, suddenly unable to even lift his eyes, his fingers trembling. Renji was going to kiss him! Renji liked him!

“Tch’,” Renji laughed, a mere sigh through his nose and a wide grin. “So cute,” he mumbled, and flicked the light back off with a turn of the key.

Ichigo let his eyes close even though he couldn’t see shit anyways, and clenched his hands into fists, breath quickening as he could _feel_ Renji approach, hear the leather seat between them creak as Renji put his weight on it, leaning towards him – Ichigo could feel the warmth of his closeness, and still he kept his eyes tightly shut and twitched with the effort of remaining stock still.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, he opened his eyes and grumbled, “You gonna’ kiss me or just keep blowing your smoky breath in my face?”

Renji let out a rumbling hum of a laugh. “I’ll quit.” Ichigo swallowed and licked his lips, able to feel the words against his skin from the puff of warm air that ghosted over to him. Oh god, Renji was so close, he could hear and feel the smile in his voice as he mumbled, “If you let me kiss you every day.”

Breathlessly, Ichigo smiled and practically gasped out, “Where’s the downside for me?” the sarcasm falling completely out of the words.

Renji suddenly growled, and they seized each other, by the arms, the front of the shirt, dragged together until their faces were a mere inch or so apart – Ichigo trembled there for a moment, terrified by how electrified he was. They both froze there, barely breathing, and then Renji melted, his body sagging as he groaned out a husky sigh, “Aww, you drive me wild.”

And then Renji kissed him – _on the mouth!_

Renji kissed with his whole body, big and warm and enveloping him. At first it was just a firm seal of the lips, gentle and tentative, but that telling sigh of affection and god-you’re-so-precious provoked Ichigo’s damned sense of never wanting to be outdone, so he tried to kiss back, pushing his face against Renji’s, breath growing heavy.

Renji responded with a low groan and held Ichigo to his body, wrapping his arms around him. Ichigo’s hands balled into fists, resting against Renji’s collarbones, his forearms pressed to his chest. In the back of Ichigo’s mind, it was blaring that this was it, it was happening, he was about to get laid for the first time – he was going to have _sex_ with a guy on the leather seat of a pick-up truck in an abandoned lot. His head spun and his stomach clenched with adrenaline. Shit, it was really happening. He was nervous and apprehensive about it, but also very excited, and shit, so happy. He almost didn’t know what to do he was so happy – fuck, and relieved. It felt like all this effort he’d taken to hold in what he was feeling, all the fear and dread and sadness that would weigh him down whenever he fucked up, it all had just seeped out.

Ichigo hoped he wasn't a bad kisser. If he was, Renji didn't seem to mind, considering he didn't move to stop, running his hands over Ichigo's back, squeezing them together. Ichigo shyly let his hands pet Renji's hair a little, testing his boundaries.

The kissing continued for a long time, long enough that Ichigo grew dizzy and dazed, his erection completely confused by the conflicting signals of the lingering adrenaline of his nervousness and the relaxed lazy beat of his heart. Their pace was starting to slow from its prior eagerness. Doing this was really nice, so Ichigo was surprised when Renji began to withdraw, slowly, almost gently, as to not make him feel rejected.

Ichigo blinked his eyes open, lips tingling and wet. Renji licked his lips and let the little space between them linger for a moment, unable to resist pressing one more warm kiss against Ichigo’s sluggish mouth. Ichigo didn’t think he ever wanted to do anything else ever again except kiss Renji. He tried to follow him, but Renji separated them then, breath slow and easy.

Renji pulled back and cleared his throat, adjusting his belt buckle and pulling on the front of his pants a bit. “Ah, I think that’s enough for now,” Renji mumbled with this hesitant sappy sort of smile, and Ichigo just stared, because he hadn’t expected- he’d thought-

Renji smiled a bit more, tentatively, and Ichigo mirrored it belatedly, surprised. They both laughed a bit nervously, and then Renji turned the car on to drive them back.

This time, Renji’s hand fumbled for his in the dark, and they rested clasped on his thigh, held together. His hand was still greasy, just a little bit.

Ichigo caught his grin in the flare of passing headlights, and his heart sang, and those little buds blossomed.


	13. Ichigo Gets Advice

The following morning, Ichigo spent some time recalling their night out.

Once back in the campus lot, they’d peeled their sticky hands apart and had gotten out of the truck. Renji had stood across from him in the streetlight-illuminated parking lot with an anticipatory grin, his body seeming to hum and practically burst with excitement. 

Practically squirming where he stood, Ichigo bit his lip roughly at their proximity and Renji’s silent beaming. Was this the part where Renji invited him back to his room?

But Renji didn't say any such thing. He just smiled at him for a long time, glowing all over.

“You have fun tonight?” he finally inquired lowly, one corner of his mouth quirking up to show his teeth, his eyes twinkling like twin stars. His voice seemed to wind through the warm fog of the night without disturbing the peace of the silence.

“Yeah,” Ichigo managed to answer, everything in a tingly daze. “You’re not a complete loser.”

Renji snorted and shook his head. “You’re not so bad yourself…” Ichigo didn’t believe in magic or any of that weird shit, but the way Renji’s eyes seemed to cage his, leaving him feeling as though he physically couldn’t look away – it had him doubting.

“You wanna’ see me again, Ichigo?” Renji’s voice was low, his body drawn in close, and his bright eyes peered at him as if signaling he wanted another goodnight kiss. The warm night air felt like Renji was still all around him, touching him everywhere, but Renji didn't lean in, merely gazing at him with this soft gleam to his eyes.

“Yeah,” he’d said breathlessly, scuffing his toe on the ground.

“Sweet. I’ll see you in class.” And Renji had raised his hand and smiled at him as he’d walked off.

Ichigo shoved his head into his pillow.

The buds had bloomed, and the fucking red bumblebee has got its ass all up in the flower. He never should’ve opened that thing, because his entire brain was just one endless buzz of Renji and his amazing pizza kiss.

He let out a pitiful whine of a groan, lying on his stomach in bed with his pillow in his arms, and tried his best to smother himself.

“Qué mierda?” Grimmjow grunted in annoyance, then repeated, "What's wrong with you?" when he got no response. Ichigo lifted his head, and they stared at each other for a few seconds. “Pff’,” Grimmjow finally scoffed, and Ichigo dramatically let his head drop again.

“You look like you got fucked,” he noted somewhat mildly, and Ichigo gave a long groan, shoving his head against his pillow roughly, like he could grind the skin off if he just tried hard enough.

“I’ve got the bug,” he muttered, his voice muffled beyond all recognition.

Even so, Grimmjow somehow was able to comprehend enough to reply, “You’ve got _somethin’_ alright.”

Ichigo stuck out his lower lip, because he knew what he’d ‘got.’ He’d gotten stung by the love-bee.

Fuck, even thinking about it was unbearable, and with his eyes clenched shut he wildly threw himself onto his back, still viciously holding his pillow over his head. Renji had kissed him, fucking shit, they’d kissed!

… What was going to happen now?

Ichigo frowned, eyes shut tight, breath hot and muggy where it was trapped against his face. Would he and Renji do it again? Would the next time be sex?

… Did Renji like him? He _must,_ right? Since he’d kissed him?

Well, no. Grimmjow fucked people he hated and that he literally wanted to die _._ Renji didn’t necessarily have to like him – but, well, sex wasn’t the same as a kiss. Sure, sex was invasive and intimate and whatnot, but Ichigo felt like a kiss was personal. It was hard to do just a kiss and nothing else, but have it not _mean_ anything, right? It wasn’t like casual emotionless sex where you at least got an orgasm out of it. A _kiss_ with no feeling was… well… Why had you even kissed in the first place then? Unless it was a prelude to sex – which it hadn’t been in Ichigo’s case. Maybe he was being naive. 

Fucking hell, though. He didn't know what to do with himself. Did Renji like him? What would happen now?

Oh god, he should just call Rukia – he could see it now in his mind, him blurting it out to her: “Renji and I kissed,” and her response of nothing more than an eyebrow raise and an entirely unsurprised, flat expression of ‘seriously?’

 _‘I know_ , _Rukia,’_ he’d say, resigned to the humiliation.

Ichigo shoved his pillow on his head to the point that he couldn’t breathe, but it still didn’t stop him from blushing and feeling hysterical. He and Renji had kissed. _‘I know. Oh my god, I know.’_

He slapped the pillow down suddenly, and stared at the ceiling and breathed, red-faced and sweaty.

Stop it. Just fucking stop it.

When Ichigo saw Renji next, he didn’t even have it in him to act aloof or stand-offish out of embarrassment or to look cool or whatever the fuck else. Whatever pretense he usually put on, today he was openly excited.

His head popped up eagerly when he saw Renji coming, and he tried to smile, only to have it fade a moment later. Renji wasn’t looking at him as he normally did. Instead, he seemed troubled, busy on the phone, trudging up the steps to the top row of desks with his feet almost dragging.

When he reached the top, he glanced up to see Ichigo and flashed a grin, slipping his phone into his back pocket and looking for all the world like the sight of him was the greatest relief imaginable. “Hey,” he greeted, scooting up nice and close and _smiling_ _at him_ like the sun coming through the clouds. Ichigo’s toes curled up at the attention, his head ducking slightly.

If he'd ever doubted it, it definitely looked like they weren’t going to pretend that date hadn’t happened.

“Osu,” Ichigo replied rather flatly, consciously trying to sound indifferent, but painfully aware that he was probably making goo-goo eyes – he’d never understood the term before, but he did now.

Renji grinned, never swayed by his bad attitude, seeming just as charmed by it as ever. Ichigo tentatively smiled back a bit, feeling a bit like a little boy trying to smile for a photo when in reality he was merely showing his teeth. Renji went to sit down, but then immediately hopped back up as though he’d rested on a cactus, apparently having received another text.

“Aw _shit,”_ he hissed, pulling his phone back out and practically throwing himself down in his chair, causing it to roll a bit, leaving his leg touching Ichigo’s. He immediately flinched away involuntarily and watched as Renji scanned the screen with a deeply frustrated frown, although he couldn’t see what he was looking at from the angle he held his phone.

“What?” Ichigo asked curiously. Renji blinked, eyes drifting towards Ichigo, the tension in his frame easing a bit.

“My professor again,” he answered, then glared at his phone again. “God _damn_ this guy. I’m losing my mind.”

“Your professor is texting you?” Ichigo had to clarify, baffled.

“Email,” Renji muttered flatly, “an’ yeah.” He turned his phone off and set it on the table, scooting in to rest his elbow near it and scowl down at it, fingers drumming. “I keep having to schedule office appointments with him because he won’t help me with my term paper after class.” He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ichigo, huffing through his nose. “Just me, by the way. That’s not his policy or anything.” He gesticulated frustratedly. “He just won’t help _me.”_

Ichigo frowned. “Sounds like a dick,” he agreed.

Voice lowered and dark through gritted teeth, Renji muttered, “It’s not ‘cuz he’s bein’ a dick, it’s ‘cuz he’s a dirty bastard.”

“Huh?”

Class began then and interrupted Renji’s reply, and though Renji didn’t check his phone again, he left it out on the table; Ichigo could see him keep glancing at it frequently and the little notification light that kept flashing.

Once class was over, Renji walked off.

Ichigo felt a little let down. He’d been expecting… _something!_

Maybe it was his turn to initiate – with this in mind, Ichigo followed Renji out of the room and down the hall, a little discouraged when Renji didn’t really wait for him or acknowledge him at all, walking ahead of him and frowning at his phone screen. Even so, he tried, “Uh,” feeling incredibly awkward and put out when Renji didn’t so much as look up at him. “You wanna’ hang out?” he still tried, his voice damningly tentative, a hand already half held up as if to grab Renji’s shoulder and forcibly turn him towards him. He quickly shoved the traitor into his pocket.

Renji did look up at that, seeming surprised for a moment, and Ichigo’s heart fluttered with hope. Instead of agreeing, Renji winced and looked really guilty, his voice completely saturated with it. “Crap, Ichigo, I’m sorry,” he began, and Ichigo felt a façade of numbness slam down over his own face, to hide the disappointment and hurt and the _why-why-why-_

No, but... he'd thought-

“I’d love to go grab something to eat, but I’ve gotta’ go clear this up,” Renji explained apologetically, reluctantly stopping and standing across from Ichigo in the hall. He took a bit of the sting out of the rejection by adding with some disappointment of his own, “Really, I was gonna’ ask, but…” He gestured vaguely to his phone, tight-lipped with frustration.

Ichigo felt himself nod, and felt somewhat assured that there was still next time, there could still be a next time. It didn’t sound so much like an excuse to not hang out as it did a genuinely bad and inconvenient coincidence that Renji couldn’t hang out right then – it didn’t mean Renji didn’t like him. He still had a chance.

As if to confirm Ichigo’s pitiful hopes, Renji tentatively put forth, “We can hang later though, right?” in a conciliatory manner, which admittedly perked Ichigo up.

“Yeah sure,” he said, the numb blank feeling melting from his visage. Renji seemed significantly less stressed out over whatever was going on with his professor, the tension easing from his shoulders and a warm relieved smile spreading on his face, his eyes unapologetically soft and fond.

“Great, I’ll ring you when I’m free,” he promised, and with that, he started walking off again, half-turned towards Ichigo with a hand raised and a smile. “See ya, Ichigo!”

“Yeah, see ya’,” he replied dazedly, feeling a million times better – in fact, he’d go so far as to say that he felt _up_ as he walked to get some food. Renji really did plan to do this again. Renji had liked him on their date and wanted to see him again. Wow… this really wasn’t so hard at all, was it.

Since his lunch plans had fallen through with Renji, he went out with Rukia instead. Barring group projects or other student gatherings, Ichigo didn’t hang out much, and was pretty okay with being on his own – that being said, he still did get a bit antsy when he went without seeing Rukia for a while.

If Ichigo was honest, he was _not_ a social butterfly. Sure, he could function just fine in social settings, he was easygoing most of the time, but he had a hard time enjoying himself in groups he wasn’t well acquainted with, and he forgot names all the time. He didn’t get why everyone knew who he was, he didn’t make an effort to hang out with people, he didn’t seek out company. He didn’t smile much, or laugh, or get spoony or gooey or mushy over people. He didn’t date. He didn’t open his heart up on a whim, and it had been that way for a long long time.

Since the death of his mother, he’d had a difficult time growing attached to people, largely due to the fact that for the longest time, he just hadn’t _cared_ about anything. He hadn’t cared to reach out to people or to interact with others more than he had to. He’d felt nothing past mild like or dislike, maybe irritation towards his bullies, but nothing very far beyond that. His friendships had been maintained mostly due to the sheer stubbornness of those friends and their refusal to desert him, despite his aloof flat attitude. In truth, he was sort of a bad friend that way, leaving it all to them to initiate conversations and outings, sometimes losing contact with them for months at a time.

That was why it boggled his mind that people called him a nice guy, caring, kind-hearted, because he didn’t feel that way. He didn’t think he was an especially good person – he just did the decent thing when he was presented the option, he tried to live up to his name, but inside he felt lost, like he’d once been in this complex web of love and connection and then had had all his strings cut and had then been left forever separate, so alone, all the time…

Thank goodness he’d met Rukia. She’d just…

It was like the moment he’d met her, he’d snapped awake, burst out of a frigid silent ocean with a gasp, and everything had been sharp and clear for the first time in ages. He could hear the waves, feel the wind, his own breath, heartbeat, so cold and even painful, but _there-_ And then of course, he’d yelled at her, because who punched a complete stranger in the head?

So yes, she’d been very important in ‘bringing him back to the real world,’ but even now, after Rukia had sort of – and it sounded stupid, he knew – shown him how to love again, how to love being alive and how to love being around other people again, he was still, by nature, pretty reserved. It took him time to warm up to people, which was why his closest friends were still those he’d known during that endless stretch of what he now knew had been depression. Keigo, Chad, Uryu, Orihime, and now Rukia: he was used to them. They were familiar, comforting, trustworthy.

And now there was Renji.

Renji was out of place, he was new, exciting and _dangerous_ _._ There came a definite element of self-discovery that went along with liking him, because during that long period of apathy and grief, Ichigo had never really had any crushes. This was new, and _important._

He was excited and he just… wanted to tell someone! He felt so much that he thought he would burst if it didn’t come out somehow. He’d never understood that phrase of wanting to shout something from the rooftops, but sometimes he thought he needed to scream, shove his head into the bed and just _scream that he liked Renji, they’d kissed and he liked him so fucking much-_ He had never known about this horrible and wonderful aspect to life, and it was so nerve wracking and exciting that he just wanted to tell someone. He wanted to share this with Rukia and show her this newly discovered and important feeling, hold it in his hands and just let her look at it, show her how beautiful it was.

-and most of all, get her help, because god, he didn’t know what to do with it.

He tried to bring it up naturally, but when the subject of Renji arose, Rukia got a bit sour and uncomfortable, shifty. Apparently, Renji and her brother didn’t get along – and he could see the position that put her in, because she clearly loved both of them very much.

“Hey, so, I need ta’ ask you some questions about Renji,” he started, cleaning his plate by wiping a french fry around on it and hoping he sounded somewhat normal. He almost didn’t care if he got teased at this point, he was feeling so crazy from this requited crush.

She didn’t visibly react other than pausing, her eyes seeming suspicious. Her voice was level though, as she answered. “Why not just ask him?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Huh?” Her eyes narrowed then with a wry grimace. “Are you two fighting again?” Ichigo cursed himself for not talking enough to his friends. Usually Rukia knew everything that was going on in his life, but lately things have been so weird that he didn’t think he’d mentioned this whole Renji thing to her since that weird conversation they’d had where she’d somehow known that he liked Renji’s muscles. She probably still thought they hated each other because of that welcoming party incident.

“I thought you two were getting along better.” Okay, so maybe she did know something.

Embarrassed and feeling incredibly predictable, as he always did when he tried to hide something from her and inevitably failed, Ichigo griped, “Will you just help me already?!”

“I suppose,” she said, after considering for a time. Her lovely violet eyes dropped to her plate, and her bubbly personality seemed subdued, almost crushed. Ichigo had the good decency to feel bad. He knew that whatever had gone on to separate her from Renji had really hurt both of them.

Clearing his throat, he tried to apologize, “I know you don’t like talking about-” Rukia shook her head, eating some salad and brushing him off.

“It doesn’t matter now, tell me what you need help with.”

Ichigo felt a bit flustered as he tried to quickly explain with as little detail as possible, “Well, he an’ I’ve been hanging out a bit lately, and well…” he sputtered, “I l-”

“You like him, I know, skip to the question,” Rukia demanded with that imperious and knowledgeable tone that was always employed when she wanted to make Ichigo feel like an idiot – to which she succeeded more than half the time, including this time.

Rather than waste time denying it, Ichigo just resigned himself to the humiliation this conversation would cause him. “Well, I think he took me on a date,” he confessed, hands curled up on his thighs. “I’m like one hundred percent positive.”

“Then why do you only _think_ it was a date?” Rukia wondered, head tilted to the side with her eyebrows having raised in curiosity.

“Well, the word ‘date’ wasn’t mentioned, but-” At a skeptical look from Rukia, Ichigo, ever the hot-head who lived to prove people wrong, said a bit louder than he meant to, “but we kissed, so…”

“So…” she prompted when Ichigo went silent from sheer awkwardness.

“So?” he repeated, his voice a sulky and embarrassed mumble, not knowing what she wanted him to say.

“What, are you asking me if it’s okay with me?” she clarified with some exasperation, as if he were being particularly dense today.

“No.” Ichigo paused. “… Is it?” Rukia sighed and put a hand to her eyes.

“What was the question, dweeb?”

“Oh right,” he said sheepishly, startling a bit and then putting his embarrassment aside, curiously prying, “I guess I just wanted to know more about him. You know him better than anyone else, since you two were close as kids, right?”

“…” Rukia seemed to consider this rather uncomfortably for a moment, before divulging, “I told you, we’re not like that anymore.” Ichigo had a moment to feel guilty for how sad she sounded when she said that, despite her best efforts to hide it. “It’s been a long time, Ichigo. We were fifteen when…” She shook her heads and sighed, “Kids really. Renji’s a man now. People change so much.”

Ichigo swallowed and tried, “Well, some things about a person don’t change.” She didn’t respond other than picking at her food. Ichigo cut to the chase, wanting this horrible line of conversation to be over. He didn’t like putting that look in her eyes – he felt helpless to it. She was always the one to cheer him up, and he didn’t know what to do the other way around.

“Look, we both know his reputation,” he huffed, “but that can’t be all there is to know.” Recovering somewhat, Rukia lifted her head and listened. “He’s been pretty nice to me, and…” Ichigo cleared his throat, glancing around, “I think if this is going the way I think it is, then…” He made a vague gesture and hoped she’d get what he meant, as she almost always did.

She rubbed at her chin, her usual superior know-it-all tone returning, and Ichigo felt heartened by it. “You want to know if you have a chance with him.” Ichigo was kind of quiet, because that hadn’t really been his intention in coming here, but that would be okay to know too, if Rukia had answers…

“Because he’s a player, you mean?”

She nodded somewhat, but deigned to say, “Renji isn’t exactly a player. To be a player you have to be tricking people into thinking you want more than some fun, and Renji isn’t a liar.” Ichigo listened attentively, hands on the tabletop and gripping his plate. “I suppose you could just say he has a prolific sex life.”

“I heard about that part,” Ichigo admitted reluctantly. Rukia sighed then, pushing her food back a bit and rubbing her forehead.

“Look, I don’t like talking about him like this. We grew up together, Ichigo,” she seemed to beg, brow scrunched.

“You sure know a lot about him for someone who doesn’t care,” Ichigo noted slowly, and with a dose of disbelief.

“Who said I don’t care?” she bit out with a grimace, her eyes going soft as she looked up at him. “I love Renji, and I love you.”

“Bleagh,” he stuck his tongue out and made noises like a disgusted child did at steamed vegetables. Rukia quirked her mouth in a fond smile.

“Yeah, I know, how awful for me, right?” She looked at him imploringly then. “But that’s why I…” She tried again with a sigh. “Look Ichigo, I care about Renji, and I don’t like talking about him like he’s a predator – but I care about you too, so I have to warn you about him.”

“Warn me,” Ichigo repeated, troubled.

“You said he’s kissed you,” she noted, “that he’s in pursuit…” She sighed, seeming equally troubled, telling him almost apologetically, “Well, he’s done this before. A lot. This is how he operates.” Ichigo frowned, but Rukia kept going.

“He’ll set his eyes on someone and then show them a good time, go a couple rounds, and then he has a new friend. It’s how his world works.”

Ichigo trusted Rukia’s judgement implicitly, but he had a hard time reconciling her words with the way Renji had treated him, with the smile Renji always gave him, with the buds in his heart. He didn’t want to believe it. Hesitantly, he wondered, “… Are you sure?” He frowned, protesting uncertainly, “He didn’t do that to me.”

Rukia seemed to hate what she was saying, that it was hurting him, so she closed her eyes and winced, but her voice was stone, “It’s like you said. I know Renji.” Ichigo closed his mouth then as her voice went soft and hurt, “He’s a loyal friend, always there when you need him, and he’s never afraid in a fight, but when it comes to real feelings and getting hurt, he’s the first to run.” She curled her hair behind her ear. “Renji is not very serious with his body, but he’s very serious with his heart.”

Ichigo felt frozen up and empty at hearing that. “His showing an interest so suddenly is something I’ve seen a hundred times.” She looked at him then, warning, “Be careful, Ichigo, please. Renji has run from commitment all his life.”

“He seemed pretty sincere,” he tried, his throat dry.

Actually no, that wasn’t true. Renji had been very casual and vague about this whole thing, Ichigo was startled to realize, and the knowledge that he might just be seeing what he wanted desperately to see made his leg hairs stand up.

“Maybe he is sincere this time, I don’t know,” Rukia agreed frustratedly, but with a certain gentleness, as if to try and make him feel better. She never usually did that. She was usually brutally honest, harsh even. “I’m just telling you, be very careful.”

Ichigo frowned sadly and felt sick. “Renji is a determined person, and once he knows… or _thinks_ he knows what he wants, he tries for it with great dedication, but once personal risk comes into it, at some point he always gets scared and then does a cut and run.” Rukia stirred her food, stared at it. “I wouldn’t call it playing. It’s not mean-spirited.” Her voice became incredibly gentle, sad and knowing, “He loves people, he really does. He just doesn’t let himself get attached. It’s been that way ever since Brother adopted me.”

In Ichigo’s experience, when one person told you something bad about another, it was usually gossip. If it was more than one person, or someone who was close to you that you _trusted,_ the gossip might have merit.

And seriously, _horribly…_ it did make sense. Renji hadn’t ever called it a date, had he – Ichigo had asked, but he hadn’t gotten an answer – and even though Renji might not have made a move to have sex, he _had_ made a move. Maybe Renji had just been grooming him.

Ichigo pressed his lips together nervously. Had that kiss just been to test how receptive he’d be to something more? Had it not meant anything after all?

“Okay,” he heard himself say, sounding incredibly troubled, and he was, “Thanks for the advice.”

The subject changed from there, and Ichigo tried to forget it, but it stayed there in his mind for hours, until he was lying in bed at night and able to think of nothing else.

Ichigo didn’t like to think of himself as stupid, but he’d been known to do things on impulse before. From Grimmjow, who thought _everyone_ was only after sex, Ichigo could brush it off. Hearing this from Rukia, however…

The fact that he could very well be just another dumb moth fooled into flying to its death in the bug light was fucking terrifying.


	14. Ichigo Picks a Flower

_Cherry, oh, Cherry, oh, baby, don’t you know I’m in love with you?  
_ _I_ _f you don’t believe I do, then why don’t you try me?_

 . . .

They didn’t talk until their next class together, both of them being busy with work and class.

The next time he saw Renji, he was back to normal, seemingly – no weird phone shenanigans or bad mood, just his normal friendly larger-than-life self. He spun in his chair next to Ichigo and asked, “Oi, you doin’ anything this week?”

“I’m pretty busy,” he lied, he _lied,_ and immediately he felt disgusting.

Renji seemed to buy it, frowning a bit, but nodding. “Mm,” he grunted, as if he was disappointed but didn’t think much of it otherwise. “Okay, well let me know.”

Ichigo didn’t let him know – in fact, he didn’t initiate conversation for about a week, and felt shitty for all seven days of it, since Renji hadn’t stopped putting up an effort even though it was clear that he _actually_ had been busy and was bending over backwards to make time for Ichigo, only for Ichigo to fucking lie and blow him off.

He just couldn’t get those words out of his head. It was almost worse than what he’d been told about Renji only wanting him for sex, because Ichigo didn’t believe that. It was clear enough that Renji liked him as a person on some level. Rukia’s words though, they had spooked him.

The idea that Renji might do something totally shitty like cut and run after they had sex – not necessarily because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t want to commit, couldn’t stick with one person long enough to feel too much – it made Ichigo really apprehensive, and it put a dark, sick, and sad feeling slithering in his gut every time Renji made an effort to reach out.

He didn’t want to be alone with Renji anymore, he didn’t want to talk to him or see his face, he didn’t want to give him the opportunity to initiate sex or crawl inside him even further – it was sort of this obsessive fear that if ‘you lay down with dogs, you’ll get fleas’ thing, except the fleas would be a broken heart.

Maybe he should just put an end to this whole thing. He had really liked Renji, and he hadn’t been sure of what he’d wanted before, but now that he knew what he _didn’t_ want, things were a little clearer. Stupid and pathetic as it was, he’d had this idea that if he got Renji to like him, he wouldn’t have to share his attention, that this would progress naturally into a _relationship_ – and that just wasn’t realistic. He hadn’t really thought it through that far, but in his little fantasy, he and Renji would’ve been boyfriends.

It hadn’t crossed his mind that Renji would give himself to him, but not to keep – only for a little while.

It didn’t fit though, not perfectly, because if it was that simple, why was Renji still trying?

If it was a simple matter of stubborn pursuit, Renji would start getting frustrated at being repeatedly rebuffed, but he wasn’t. In fact, he seemed genuinely disappointed and even saddened when Ichigo made excuses to get out of seeing him or talking to him. In class, Renji tried double-hard to coax him into talking, into spending time with him after, later, whenever he was free? Anything, even just taking a walk would be fine, even just for _ten minutes,_ he just wanted to see him, please?

Ichigo had seen him around campus, laughing with his friends like usual as he headed wherever he was going, or doing his volunteer work with his normal charisma, but his shoulders drooped, his eyes were sad, and each time Ichigo spurned him, he’d frown for a second like a rejected dog. He looked absolutely lovelorn, and Ichigo was no better.

This was a miserable way to live. He wanted to see Renji too, but he just… What if this wasn’t-

Ugh, whatever, he thought too much.

Ichigo didn’t know what was going on or what Renji wanted from him. Not for the first time, he wished that everything was black and white so that he’d know. He always felt so dumb about this kind of stuff.

Finally, after a week of absolute misery, Renji was direct, and texted him – and even though Ichigo was reluctant to respond to him of late, he still couldn’t resist reading his messages.

 

 

Swallowing and screwing his eyes shut, Ichigo answered miserably, to which Renji immediately replied, which made him feel sick, imagining Renji sitting around and waiting for him.

 

 

Ichigo winced, lying on his bed in a ball and staring sadly at his phone.

 

 

Damn Renji and how weirdly perceptive he was of people. Putting him on the defensive, Ichigo spitefully typed out a rather sulky reply.

 

 

Renji hesitated in replying for about thirty seconds, and then finally answered, which had Ichigo raising an eyebrow.

 

 

After a punctuated silence of a few minutes, Renji admitted:

 

 

Ichigo stared at it for a minute and tried to wrap his head around the fact that by Renji has been so confused and bothered by Ichigo avoiding him that he’d blabbed about it to somebody else, just like he had to Rukia about his crush.

Renji got a little defensive from his silence.

 

 

Unable to resist, Ichigo fell back to old habits of teasing Renji as they usually did, but soon realized his mistake when Renji seemed to go along with it too easily, like a starved animal. He frowned at himself.

 

 

Renji didn’t say anything else for a time, and Ichigo rested his head on his arm pitifully.

 

 

Rather frustratedly, he stabbed out a reply, to which Renji was silent for some time again.

 

 

Ten minutes later, a message popped up on the screen, horribly vulnerable and sweetly sad – and he was so fucking weak.

 

 

“God damnit!” Ichigo growled aloud, and typed out that he’d try to make time, sending it.

He’d think about it…

. . .

 

That Thursday, Ichigo was out exercising and using the track field to clear his head, jogging and listening to music. Eventually, he came to a stop by some trees where he’d tossed his jacket, water bottle, his sports towel, and a book, and took a drink of water.

He toweled off his face and was stretching his legs, just about to sit down and rest for a while in the dappled shade, then walk back through the park to the dorms, when suddenly he noticed Renji walking up to him, carrying a sports duffle and wearing sunglasses.

“Ichigo!”

Ichigo glanced around a bit and straightened up, not answering until Renji made it over to him. “What are you doing here?” he muttered, rather defensive and accusatory.

Not dissuaded in the slightest, Renji grinned and confidently declared, “Here ta’ pick you up for a night out!”

Ichigo’s face screwed up in utter confusion, an eyebrow raising. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Renji nodded.

 _“Right now-_ right now,” he clarified, at which Renji nodded again. Ichigo huffed, shutting his eyes so he could roll them privately in exasperation. “And you weren’t gonna’ warn me beforehand?”

Renji did seem somewhat uncertain then, pursing his lips and shifting his weight. “I’ve tried to make plans with you, but you never had a minute.” Ichigo raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘yeah, and?’

Finally Renji divulged, “… My hairdresser said that surprising you might work better.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the balls on this guy. He’d been that sure that he would agree that he’d just sauntered up here and expected Ichigo to fall on his knees for him?

“What were you gonna’ do if I said no?”

“Well,” Renji mumbled hesitantly, scratching his neck a bit with an awkward smile, “She said not to bother planning for that.”

Ichigo shook his head. _‘Quit talking about me to your stylists already.’_

The thought of Renji puzzling over what his avoidance could mean and trying to figure it out, being _so troubled_ that he’d asked others for advice – the thought of it was absolutely crippling, but Ichigo couldn’t afford to let this go on any longer.

Strength. He had to be strong. This… this had to stop.

Brow furrowed, Ichigo tiredly said, “Renji, look-” He paused, seeing that Renji’s free hand, the one that wasn’t holding the strap of his bag on his shoulder, the one that was just dangling at his side, it was _holding something._ He hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s that?” he heard himself say, voice numb and disconnected. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry, his eyes wide and fixed on it.

“Oh, this?” Renji, seeming to have almost forgotten it, startled at Ichigo’s question, and smiled, holding it out to him. “This is for you.”

Renji handed him a flower, a red lotus bloom.

Ichigo didn’t know what to say. He kind of just opened his mouth and then closed it, and then reached out to take the flower, motion halting and jerky. His mother had taught him some hanakotoba before she’d passed, and he knew damn well what this was, what it meant, what Renji was _doing._

Renji looked at him hopefully, a bit apprehensive, maybe even unsure, and the ghostly words echoed back to him and raised the hairs on his neck.

_‘Renji is very serious with his heart.’_

Ichigo accepted the flower, took it in his hand, and held it near his chest. “Thank you.”

Renji _beamed,_ his body sagging minutely, suddenly relaxed, and Ichigo had to wonder if Renji, Mr. Smooth Operator, had been nervous.

“Uh, do you wanna’ change before we go?” Renji offered, noting, “You look kinda’ sweaty.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Ichigo replied, picking up his stuff and holding the flower carefully separate. “Come with. I won’t take long.”

He let Renji into his building and went upstairs, stopping at the door of his and Grimmjow’s room. “Wait here,” Ichigo said, opening the door and going in. “Gimme’ ten.” Renji nodded and got comfortable in the hallway.

Ichigo filled up a large glass bowl with water and let the lotus float in it, set the bowl on the counter, and then threw his other stuff on his bed. Taking his shirt off on the way to the bathroom, he turned the shower on and then dug around for fresh clothes while the water heated up.

“The fuck is that?” he suddenly heard.

“It’s mine, don’t touch it.” Ichigo said without even looking up, but didn’t get any response whatsoever. Grimmjow was still looking at it, fists on his hips. “You hear me, Grimm? Don’t touch my flower,” Ichigo repeated louder.

Grimmjow squinted at him quietly, then at the bowl, and he got that smart look, god damnit – he then turned suddenly and opened the front door.

Ichigo could see Renji out in the hall, who looked up from his phone – and apparently lost Temple Run from the angry monkey sound effects. He couldn’t see what Grimmjow was doing since all that was visible was the back of his head, but after a moment of staring at Renji silently , Grimmjow closed the door again without a word.

Turning to Ichigo, still squinting, Grimmjow grit out suspiciously, “What is he doing here, Kurosaki?”

“We’re going out,” Ichigo said shortly, picking out his change of clothes and taking them into the bathroom with him. Grimmjow continued staring at him from the doorway.

 _“Again?_ ” he said, then pulling his brows down. “I don’t like it, Ich.”

“You’re the one who wanted us to hook up.” He tested the water and then pushed Grimmjow out of the bathroom with his foot.

“You _ain’t_ hooked up yet an’ he keeps hangin’ around, it’s fuckin’ weird,” Grimmjow stressed, and Ichigo finally took the bait, turning towards him and glaring him in both eyes.

“Oh, it _has_ to be weird, huh?” He threw his arms up frustratedly. “There’s no way he could just, I dunno’, want to go on a date with me because I’m an okay person.”

Grimmjow scoffed then, incredulous and baffled. “Please, there’s no way that he’s not just-” Ichigo jabbed him in the chest.

“Did it ever occur to you that he might _like_ hanging out with me and talking to me?” Grumbling, Ichigo got a towel out of the cabinet and threw it over the rim of the shower. “Not everyone’s a complete bastard to me like you are.”

“I _told_ you,” Grimmjow insisted heatedly, “Guys like me an’ Abarai don’t give two shits about talking, Ichigo.” Ichigo rolled his eyes with a heavy groan, but Grimmjow raised his voice over him. “This shit is fucking weird.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t like it.”

“I dunno’ what you want from people sometimes.”

From Rukia, her advice made him want to exercise caution, but hearing it from Grimmjow just activated that animal part of his brain that had to prove competence, that had to rise to the challenge and prove him wrong. Besides that, Ichigo was tired of doubting, worrying, wondering. He just wanted to try it and see what happened.

After taking a quick shower, Ichigo toweled off his hair while he put on a t-shirt and jeans. Grimmjow was still standing there with his arms crossed, watching his every move, but Ichigo wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his tantrum.

Ruffling his hair dry one last time, Ichigo tried to go past him to the door, but Grimmjow suddenly shoved a mint box in his face, one of those tin Altoids cases. “Have some gum,” he ordered flatly.

Ichigo reeled his head back, eyes narrowed, and summoning every bit of patience in his body, said, “I don’t want any gum, man…” Focusing on them was difficult when they were so close to his face, but he eventually noted, “Those are mints.”

“No, idiot,” Grimmjow snarled, saying it slower, _“gomu.”_

Ichigo sighed roughly, rolling his eyes. “Oh for corn’s sake, Grimmjow.”

“Just fucking take ‘em!” Grimmjow hollered, trying to shove them into his face and make him take them, and Ichigo eventually had to just take them before they tore the room apart fighting.

 _“Fine!”_ he screamed, groaning, “God damnit.”

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at Renji after Ichigo put his jacket on and opened the door. Renji just looked back at him mildly, straightening up and putting his phone away. “Bye, Grimm,” Ichigo practically ordered, but Grimmjow didn’t go away, looming in the doorway and glaring at Renji. Finally, Ichigo pulled the door shut roughly, fighting Grimmjow for a moment when he held onto the handle from the other side.

Frustrated, Ichigo couldn’t resist kicking the door as they walked off. Renji raised an eyebrow and looked back for a second, pointing over his shoulder a bit vaguely with his mouth open. “Don’t pay attention to him,” Ichigo grumbled, “You’ll only encourage him.” He put the condom-box in his back pocket. “He thinks he’s scary.”

“What’s his beef?” Renji wondered.

“I don’t really bring people up here,” he explained, sighing. “He gets mad when other people come to the room.”

Frowning confusedly, Renji asked slowly, troubled, “Why does he do that?”

“I dunno’, he just does.” He shrugged lightly, and walked with Renji quietly, mostly thinking about how when he’d said goodbye to Grimmjow and walked past Renji out the door, he’d caught a whiff of pond water.

 

. . .

 

They went out to a movie, and halfway through, Renji put his arm around him. He didn’t even bother doing the yawn move or waiting until a jumpscare to have an excuse – he just fucking did it, snaking it around his shoulders and hugging him close, and Ichigo could see him smiling in the reflected light of the projector.

It was a Fast and Furious movie, and Ichigo could hardly focus beyond the car chases and shooting. Rukia’s warning kept replaying, Grimmjow’s teasing replayed, and Ichigo didn’t know what the hell he was doing, what he should do.

He was really confused and conflicted, because he’d been told by Grimmjow that Renji never really focused his attention on any one person for more than one or two days – however long it took to get them into bed – this succession of quick cons that ended in sex, and Rukia had warned him that he focused his attention on one person chronically, that he would meet you and like you and he’d be charmed like a bee to a flower, that he’d want to play with you and have fun together, but then after the novelty of ‘new’ sex was gone, he’d go on pollinating, and you’d be screwed, because a flower didn’t chase a bee.

What Renji was doing didn’t match up with either of those scenarios. Sure, Renji had shown a sudden and strange interest – well, not _that_ sudden. They had spent some time together and found similar interest, they’d talked, and it had seemed like they were gelling well. However, contrary to what both his friends had said, Renji hadn’t pushed for sex at all – even Ichigo had thought that he would. He’d fully expected to kiss his virginity goodbye in that car, but in fact, he hadn’t even been given the opportunity to have to accept – or refuse – a sexual advance. Renji had backed off all on his own and merely adjusted his boner, even though he’d had a straight shot at getting into Ichigo’s pants if he’d really wanted to try.

So what was _this_ then? What the fuck was that flower supposed to mean?

This was obviously another date, but it was moving so slowly and easily that in all honesty, it all could’ve been a huge misunderstanding. If not for that kiss, Ichigo could’ve told himself it had all been projection, that he’d seen what he’d wanted to see, that none of it had been real.

But then there was that flower. He’d misunderstood nothing. There was no way.

What about the flower, huh? There was no mistaking _that._

But why would Renji show his feelings in such a romantic and heartfelt way without ever explicitly asking him on a date or expressing it with words? Was it to fool Ichigo more easily, or was it because that was how Renji worked – a casual guy with sex, but sincere and earnest when it came to real feelings?

 _Were_ these real feelings?

Fuck, of course they were, it was a fucking _red lotus_ for goodness sake!

Ichigo would love to believe that was the case, but he also liked to think he wasn’t a rube, and only a rube believed what they wanted to rather than considering the facts… but confronted with both the facts and the conflicting evidence of his own eyes… he didn’t know _what_ to think.

What was Renji doing? What were his intentions? Ichigo just didn’t know.

They had to clear the air.

After the movie was over, Renji held his hand a bit as they walked down the streetlight-lined sidewalk to get some food. Alone in the night with Renji and listening to his conflicted rant about the movie – the explosions were cool but what a mediocre plotline! – Ichigo found himself wishing he’d stayed home.

What the fuck was he doing here? Ichigo felt a bit sick, and stayed carefully silent, unless asked a direct question.

They went out to this diner for some late-night grub, and after watching Renji eat for a while, Ichigo finally asked over their food, “... What’re we doing?”

“What do you mean?” Renji wondered lightly, mouth half full.

Ichigo rubbed at his brow with his knuckles, eyes closed and tired. “What is going on, Renji?” he sighed.

“We’re eating dinner?” came the hesitant questioning reply, as if he didn’t know what kind of answer Ichigo wanted.

“…” Ichigo gave him an impassive look.

Renji set his burger down and squinted back at him sort of frustratedly. “…” Ichigo just let his eyes drop to his plate of untouched food.

“…”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ichigo.” Frowning, Renji tried to catch his eye. “Are you not having any fun or something?”

Ichigo leaned his cheek on his fist and eyed Renji. “…” Renji wasn’t making a good case for himself.

“Okay, what’s up, where’s this coming from?” Renji wondered seriously, confused, and Ichigo had just about had it.

“What the fuck is going on here?” he bit out in a hushed tone so as not to attract attention, even though the place was pretty much deserted, as it was getting pretty late., “You gave me the flower, you’ve kissed me,” he listed, waving his hands “… weird spontaneous social outings, inviting me to your charity work stints-”

“… _What?”_ Renji pulled back from the table incredulously, back hitting the booth with a dull thump. “That’s what-” He smacked a hand to his forehead and groaned back at Ichigo with an equal frustration. “God, for a smart guy, you sure are pretty dumb.”

“Are you fucking deaf?” Ichigo raised his voice testily, because he wanted fucking answers. “What is going on?”

Renji was smiling again, nose scrunched up like he thought Ichigo was an idiot, but cute for it. “I thought that much was clear,” he replied amusedly, almost coaxingly, as if to soothe Ichigo’s anger. It did somewhat, cooling it to a bitter irritation.

“How’m’ I supposed ta’ know what you’re thinking,” he snapped, folding his arms and sitting back heavily. “I can’t read your stupid mind.” He waved a finger vaguely towards Renji’s ponytail. “How do I know that color didn’t seep down into your brain?”

“Well, it’s obvious why I did that stuff, you knucklehead,” Renji mumbled with a smile, leaning forward onto the tabletop. “I _like_ you,” he said, so easily that it made the scowl fall right off Ichigo’s face. “I like bein’ around you, you’re great.”

For one moment, his treacherous body held him prisoner, his pulse beating quickly and giving him the shakes, but he hardened his heart and snapped, “Cut the bullshit, Renji,” slapping his hands down onto the table, which made Renji back up with a baleful frown.

“What bullshit?” Renji grunted, “What, you think I’m not serious?”

“How could you be?!” Ichigo snapped, humiliated.

Renji hiked up his sleeve a bit then, and Ichigo’s words froze in his throat. He didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before, but there was a flesh-colored bandage there on Renji’s arm. He’d… Renji had gone on the patch. Ichigo suddenly realized he hadn’t seen Renji smoke since the night they’d first gone out, the night Renji had kissed him… He’d really quit.

_‘I’ll quit… if you let me kiss you every day…’_

“How could I not be,” Renji countered with a winning smile, which snapped Ichigo out of it. He snarled at Renji. What the hell is he trying to do to him, huh?

“I’m not doing this friggin’ mindgame crap. What do you want from me?” he demanded.

“What kind of weird question is that? What do you _usually_ want when you like someone?” Renji asked, perplexed. “You want them to like you back, you wanna’ be with them, know everything about ‘em.” His eyes gazed into Ichigo’s then, his expression softening, “You want them ta’ look at you an’…” He started again, voice full of… _something – “_ You wanna’ be the only one they think about like that.”

He smiled again a little, his gaze not so deep and mesmerizing, as if releasing Ichigo from some ancient curse. “And that’s you, for me,” he clarified, “What I want, I mean.”

Eyes wide, face unabashedly startled, Ichigo stared back at him, struck dumb. In fact, all he could think to say was a mild and hesitant, “… Oh.”

Since nothing else was forthcoming, Renji deigned to smile in satisfaction. “So I’m wooing you. Y’know.”

“… Okay.”

Wow. Ichigo blinked in surprise, staring dazedly around. Renji liked him. Renji was… courting him? Were they dating now?

Renji smiled a bit at his startled silence, and reached his hand across the table to rest it on Ichigo’s, then squeezed it when Ichigo let him. It was warm and heavy and covered his almost completely.

He ate his burger one-handed, and Ichigo picked at his fries, appetite gone for the butterflies that had taken up in its place, swarming around the fragrant blooms rooted in his heart. Renji smiled sunnily and wiped ketchup off his mouth and held his hand, and fuck, it was springtime in there.

That night after Ichigo gave Grimmjow his condoms back, all he received was an annoyed groan. His dreams were a pleasant blur of gentle buzzing.


	15. Ichigo Ignores Advice

_He said, 'If I became a pretty flower, would you sit and talk to me? Oh, my roots are getting old, and I'm getting, I'm getting, I'm getting lonely, lonely!'_

. . .

 

The day after that date, Ichigo spent some time in the room. Grimmjow was there too because it was a Friday and he was avoiding his dad.

He woke up late, and one of the first things he noticed was that the bowl had been moved safely to the coffee table and placed on top of some books, Grimmjow’s feet flung nearby as he played video games. It seemed that the water had been replaced. Occasionally Grimmjow would just do shit like that but not say anything about it, and if Ichigo so much as mentioned it, he’d either flatfuck deny any involvement or get violently defensive.

Ichigo looked between it and Grimmjow a few times and wondered for the millionth time if he was on medication of something – or maybe it was simpler. Maybe Grimmjow felt a little guilty of how unsupportive he’d been yesterday, or had seen how happy Ichigo had come home last night and had decided not to be an asshole today. Crazier things had happened.

Anyway, now Ichigo was trying to study with all the gun sound effects in the background.

Earlier, they’d been having their regular game day – day, not night, because Grimmjow had obviously missed him and was jealous that someone else had spent time with him; although he hadn’t admitted that was the reason, of course Ichigo still knew. They’d played their usually highly competitive and aggressive game of Claustrophobia in which Grimmjow had been the demons as always and Ichigo had been the humans. Ichigo had won that one, but Grimmjow hadn’t even been upset or demanded a rematch, which made Ichigo feel a bit uneasy, borderline _guilty_ for leaving him alone last night – which he shouldn’t, because Grimmjow went out without him all the time. It was only when Ichigo didn’t include him in stuff that he got all needy and stuff. Seriously, it was annoying.

Anyway, then they’d played Mad Libs as usual, but _not_ as usual, during the game, Ichigo had kept checking his phone, which Grimmjow hadn’t appreciated. Read: he’d fucking blown his stack. After the fifth or sixth time Ichigo had looked at his phone when he should’ve been playing the game, Grimmjow had shouted, _“Dude!”_

“Fine, fine,” he’d conceded, and had paid attention to Grimmjow until his stupid jealous tantrum had been appeased and he’d fucked off to play video games after a couple hours of forced quality time.

Now, Grimmjow was playing Grand Theft Auto loudly. The RA had come by twice to tell him to shut the fuck up, please stop shouting profanities during quiet hour, thank you, fuck off.

Meanwhile, Ichigo was checking his phone again. Renji had missed class earlier that day, and wasn’t answering his texts. Maybe it was a little clingy, since he’d just seen him last night, but he thought maybe something had happened. Plus, he was maybe a little eager to go out with him again.

Ichigo called him to try and figure out what was going on with him, but the call went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. Where were you today?” he asked. “Call me back, I thought we could go watch the soccer match tonight.”

Grimmjow looked over the side of the couch and Ichigo inwardly groaned. He should’ve gone out in the hall or something. “Again?” Grimmjow snapped predictably. _“Dude.”_

“What?” He hung up and turned to glare at Grimmjow, not liking his tone.

“‘What?’” Grimmjow mocked, as if Ichigo’s voice actually sounded like that. “Also, what the fuck, why didn’t you invite me? I’m right here, aren’t I? What am I, chopped liver?”

Ichigo gave him an unimpressed look, raising his eyebrow. “Don’t pretend you would’ve come. Renji actually likes soccer… Well, futsal.” Grimmjow scowled.

“Ahh, he’s not so cool,” he spat, and okay, his sudden hostility towards Renji’s presence yesterday made a bit more sense now. Honestly, Ichigo had kind of been expecting this, since Grimmjow was never so much as _civil_ to any of his friends. Rukia was the worst example. Their first meeting had ended up with Grimmjow up and _punching her_ in the stomach. Ichigo had really wiped him for that one and hadn’t spoken to him for a whole month.

Him taking a liking to Renji had probably established him as a threat in Grimmjow’s weird animal brain. Sure, Grimmjow had tried to help get them together before and had wanted them to sleep together, so it should be weird that he’d changed his mind like this, but since when did anything Grimmjow did make sense?

Sighing indulgently, Ichigo grimaced, almost smiling. “Grimm, don’t let jealousy get you mad.”

“I’m not jealous,” came the instant bitten retort. “Who the fuck wants to hang out with your duck-ass anyways.”

Ichigo raised his eyebrow and maturely didn’t say ‘you do,’ even though he really wanted to. Instead, he merely said, “Whatever,” and nothing else.

Unable to leave it there, even though Ichigo had let him have the last word, Grimmjow ranted, “Only a fucking avocado like him would waste that much energy chasing your frigid tail.” Grumbling to himself, he spat, “Fuckin’ faggotty flowery pussy bitch-boy.”

That got Ichigo kind of ticked. “Whaddid’ you say?!”

_“You heard me!”_

There came a kick to their door. “Quiet hour.” Grimmjow seethed and glared at Ichigo, and Ichigo narrowed his eyes and stared right back, considering.

“What is your problem with Renji, seriously?” he wondered, pointing out the inconvenient facts, “You were the one who wanted me to get with him.”

“I’m tellin’ you, Ichigo, fishy shit is going on.”

“Fish-” Ichigo shook his head roughly and squinted at Grimmjow in suspicion. “Grimm, are you on drugs or something?”

 _“Shady-ass shit,”_ Grimmjow insisted, glaring at him. “He ain’t got no obligation ta’ you, that’s all I'm saying.” Sticking his chin out, he said, “I don’t trust him.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “So he hasn’t said the exact words. He said he likes me, isn’t that enough?”

“That doesn’t mean _dick_ _,_ Ichigo.” Ichigo grimaced at Grimmjow’s harsh tone, and settled in for the long haul, resting his chin on his hand. “It’s textbook gaming – move in quick with your fucking hollow-point smile and be real likeable, act like you have a lot in common and get’m’ comfy, and then cut all ties immediately after you get what you want.” Grimmjow chopped one hand into the other roughly. “He hasn’t asked you ta’ be his boyfriend, his bitch, his goddamn _fuckstick –_ that says it all dude. You are _nothing._ He’s gonna’ make you Ichido-Ichigo.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at that long speech and said lowly, “Renji’s not like that,” and though he didn’t doubt his own words, he did feel a little uneasy.

“He’s _exactly_ like that.” Grimmjow had let his game stall for some time now, one arm over the back of the sofa to better grill him. “I’m tellin’ you man, I _know_ guys like this, and he’s hiding something. He’s weird.”

“Whatever, you don’t know anything,” Ichigo grumbled, letting it roll off. His phone began buzzing, and he picked it up. “See, that’s him right now.”

Grimmjow swelled with rage. “Kurosaki-”

“Sorry, can’t hear you,” Ichigo pretended, because he’s a little shit, and Grimmjow lurched up as if he was about to vault the sofa and throttle him.

“Yo,” Renji said into his ear.

“Hey Renji.” Grimmjow glared daggers at him, but Ichigo merely stuck out his tongue. “So you wanna’ go to the game?”

“Ahh, yeah,” Renji paused, “Sorry though, I can’t. I have to make up an assignment.”

“Oh…” Ichigo tried not to sound disappointed, but his face fell.

“Sorry Ichigo. Ask me again sometime – I love soccer,” Renji tried to console him. “Seriously, I’m just busy…” Ichigo could hear him sigh. “Professor Kuchiki is a fucking slave driver,” he griped.

“Ah, okay.”

“We can hang out tomorrow night though,” Renji offered, and Ichigo perked up. “I’ve got this thing to go to during the day, but we can catch dinner and watch something at my dorm after. You like kaiju films?”

Ichigo bit his cheek, and made himself say, “Sure,” because if he hadn’t, he may have just gaped silently without end.

Shit, every time he thought his feelings for Renji couldn’t cripple him any further, he’d find out Renji liked bunnies or thought blondes were especially cute, or that they loved the same cinematic classics and candy and pastimes. It made it harder and harder to keep his guards up, to keep a sensible amount of caution at the forefront of his mind. 

“Sweet.”

“Okay,” Ichigo said again when Renji didn’t say anything more, “Sounds fine.”

“Can’t wait to see you.” Ichigo’s eyes flicked to Grimmjow, who was still watching him distrustfully, only his eyes and his shock of blue hair peeking up over the back of the couch as he lay across it sideways and propped himself up on an elbow.

“Cool,” Ichigo mumbled, trying not to blush and instead fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants. “Me too.”

“A’right, bye.”

“Bye.”

“He invited you to his place, didn’t he,” Grimmjow said as soon as Ichigo hung up. He didn’t respond, going about his business as usual. Grimmjow set his controller down in his lap. “Kurosaki, don’t do it.”

“Look, you’re the one who wanted me to get laid, what the hell is your problem?”

 _“This_ is not getting laid,” Grimmjow said flatly. “This is you getting feelings and shit involved and _him_ getting laid.” Stubbornly, he grunted, “He’s no good.”

Ichigo let his head fall back on the bed, brow furrowed in disgruntled confusion. He’ll never understand Grimmjow. “Weren’t you the one who always said you wished someone would fuck me, break my heart, and wreck my life so I’d quit… doing…” he thought, trying to remember exactly what it was. “Something about my eyes?” he guessed.

“Yeah well.” Grimmjow gave some sort of mumbled excuse then that was completely unintelligible. Ichigo came and sat in front of the TV and watched Grimmjow play his game and sulk.

He played with the flower, which was still sitting on the coffee table – he blew on it and watched it float around, smiled at it. Even just seeing it brought his confidence back. Renji hadn’t made a single real move since they’d kissed that first time. Grimmjow didn’t know what he was talking about.

“So, you actually wanna’ go watch the soccer game, or was that just you bein’ spiteful?...”

There was a punctuated silence. “You little punk,” Grimmjow snarled, but he turned off the TV and threw the remote down, then got up. In a rage, he grabbed his leather jacket and gelled up his hair.

“I’m only going for the cheerleaders,” he insisted grumpily, and Ichigo smiled.

“Whatever you say.”


	16. Ichigo Goes For It

Ichigo visited home in the early morning to get a haircut from Yuzu, and later talked with Rukia again after lunch, back on campus. After they’d bought their coffees and were about to head out and walk around a bit, he grew distracted – it was happening a lot in the last little while – and she hit him on the arm, joking ‘Ground control to Major Tom,’ which got him to smile.

She looked at him for a minute, head reeling back in mild concern as if to look at him better. “What’s got you so distracted?”

He sighed a little sheepishly that she’d caught him zoning out. “Ahh, me and Renji went on another date,” he told her, not bothering to lie – in fact, he was almost relieved, maybe even a little bit proud to tell her.

Okay maybe he shouldn’t have expected her to be ecstatic, but it still took the smile off his face when she merely stared at him with a frown, then sighed and took a sip of her coffee, saying nothing. Trying again, he smirked and told her how Renji said he was trying to woo him, and her coffee came out of her nose in a sudden snort of laughter.

“Anyway, I’m going to meet him now actually,” Ichigo boasted breezily, smirking widely as he gave her his napkin as she coughed and dripped.

Her head snapped up. “Wait, that _worked?_ ” she said incredulously, then put her bony hand to her chin and muttered to herself as she often did, as though Ichigo wasn’t standing right rucking there. Ichigo rolled his eyes and grimaced and tried not to secretly love her for it. “This is worse than I thought,” she mumbled seriously.

Ichigo shrugged. “I’m feeling it out as I go.”

“I bet you are.”

“Rukia!” he shouted, “Not cool!”

Sighing as they left the café, Rukia just shook her head and told him, “As long as you’re careful.”

He grimaced, sufficiently embarrassed and squirming. “Ah god, don’t,” he groaned, throwing his head back.

“Quiet!” Rukia ordered, and Ichigo scowled and stuck his lip out, but obeyed. “I’m entitled to be concerned! You live with a psychotic maniac, you never leave the house, and now you’re falling for crazy monkey-men!” Ichigo had the decency to look ashamed and scuff his foot around, mumbling for her to lower her voice, god damnit, people were staring. “You’re such a humongous idiot that your life would be a mess if someone didn’t worry about you!”

“Renji’s not-” He sighed roughly, “Ugh, forget it.” He’d hoped that she would’ve been at least a _little_ supportive. He knew that she thought Renji was going to pump and dump him – Grimmjow did too – but he’d hoped maybe she’d change her mind. “He seemed sincere,” he admitted hesitantly, “You don’t have to be so bleak all the time. You said he was your best friend, but you sure don’t have a lotta’ faith in his good nature.”

Narrowing her eyes, Rukia conceded, “Well, for the record, I hope things go well. For both of you.” Her expression softened, along with her voice, and Ichigo inwardly groaned again. “I hope you can find happiness together. You both really need it.”

“Ugh, don’t start,” he begged, but she just waved her finger in his face.

“Don’t sass me, young man!”

“You’re not that much older than me!” Ichigo blurted back childishly, but quailed when she glared. Satisfied, she eased back and continued.

“Truly, I hope for the best. I really mean that.” Raising an eyebrow and sipping her coffee, she sarcastically said, “I’m just being realistic, because you both are morons and screw things up on a daily basis. I can’t imagine how you’d function together.”

Ichigo had been ready to protest and start an argument, but it fell off. “Well, it’s actually… I’m…” That warm feeling crept through him again, leaving his hands shaking and his lungs feeling like they were stuffed with helium. “Rukia, he brought me a red lotus flower,” he admitted quietly, his eyes seeking hers.

Rukia gazed back for a moment, expression neutral, but when Ichigo averted his eyes and rubbed beneath his nose with a bit of a blush, she began to smile and bite her lips, hugging the front of her sweater.

“Don’t you say a word,” he grit out.

“Ohhhh! Ichigo!” she squealed, squeezing him around the middle viciously – and then he was definitely blushing. He looked away, but let her hold him for a few moments, and even conceded to pat the back of her head. He pretended not to like her bony hugs, but he was a fucking liar.

“If that’s true, then everything will turn out,” she assured, letting him go, “I promise it will.” She smiled widely, and with a rather evil tone, told him, “You’ve turned that fool to mush.”

Ichigo put his hand in his pocket and looked away, trying to hide how pleased he was to have her blessing. Of course, he wouldn’t say as much. “… Whatever, I’ll let you know.”

He didn’t say anything, but he felt better now that Rukia was singing a different tune – not that he’d been worried. Something about how Renji had looked at him on that date had taken all his doubts away. Grimmjow was full of shit, and Rukia was too protective. Renji totally liked him.

The two of them met in front of the student center. Renji was in his usual loud constantly bordering tacky and trendy clothing, and was carrying a very small bag, the type you get from a gift shop.

“Hey, Ichiban!” Renji called with enthusiasm, and Ichigo fucking _melted._ He didn’t even immediately react when Renji approached and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Woah, you cut your hair!” Renji noted, laughing, pushing Ichigo’s hair back, although it didn’t need it now that he didn’t have his long bangs anymore. “Look at that cute forehead,” he said with a grin, leaning in close like he was going to kiss him there. “Just when I was thinkin’a’ puttin’ a pigtail in your bangs!” That did it. Ichigo tossed him off then, or tried to.

“-'tha fuck off me,” he grumbled, pulling Renji’s bandanna down on his eyes and shoving him away.

“Hah!” Renji laughed, grinning like a maniac and trying to push it back up.

“Like you do shit with your hair. You just let it grow!” Ichigo tried to scowl, but he had a feeling the effort was wasted, because Renji’s smile didn’t decrease in wattage.

Finally succeeding in getting his bandanna back in optimal position on his forehead, Renji put on a mock serious tone and lectured, “I’ll have you know this hair is a serious investment. You think these sideburns shape themselves? And don’t even get me started on-” Becoming distracted, he snapped his fingers and excitedly urged, “Oh shoot, dude, check it out. I just got my eyebrows done.” He grabbed Ichigo’s wrist and brought it to his face. “Feel,” he offered, but Ichigo pulled his arm back.

“I’m not gonna’ feel your eyebrow,” he said flatly.

“No, c’mon, it’s so smooth!” Renji rubbed his brow bone where his thick black tattoos were, and Ichigo frowned, having to wonder how Renji had decided to get tattoos there knowing that his natural red brows would grow back through.

“That’s why you smell like wax, huh,” Ichigo noted, arms crossed. Renji also had a notably flexible forehead from how much he could make his eyebrow tattoos move.

“You wanna’ guess if I got anything else waxed?” he said in his sexy voice with a smirk, winking.

 _“Gross,_ no!” he refused, starting off with a shake of the head and a heavy huff through his nose. The people that came into his life…

“Hahaha, just yankin’ ya’,” Renji teased, finally getting to business. “Anyway, I went to the aquarium today with my coworkers on a work call, but we got to have fun after on break.” He got close to Ichigo’s side with his phone, showing it to him. “Check out these pictures.”

Ichigo leaned in curiously as Renji unlocked it and went to his album. His phone background was a picture of Reon Kadena in a bikini, and his album was pretty extensive, but he soon scrolled to the bottom and showed him some pictures of various shenanigans that he and his coworkers had gotten up to at the aquarium – apparently the guys were all a bunch of ex-cons, and although Renji insisted it wasn’t a gang, the way he’d explained had sounded like a gang to Ichigo.

One was of this bald guy carrying a box and glaring at another guy who was perched on the box, there was another of Renji flexing an arm in front of the entrance sign with his shades on, him and his friends around the wall-tank, a picture of the stingray pool, and another with Renji sweating nervously near this little pink-hair girl who was imitating a shark near the shark exhibit.

Ichigo wanted to ask about the little girl, because he thought Renji had mentioned his boss having a kid before, but before he could, Renji excitedly remembered, “Oh, an’ I got you this.” He rifled through the little bag and gave him a souvenir. It was this lame little orca keychain, the orca made of glass filled with yellow glitter, the dark part of the orca being purple. “Sorry, they didn't have a pink one.”

“Uh, thanks,” Ichigo dangled it off his finger and watched the glitter swirl around inside.

“Mine’s a sea urchin. I dunno’,” Renji shrugged, “I really like the ocean. Always wanted’a’ go.” He paused for a minute, and then wondered, “D’you like it? It’s okay if you don’t, I got you chocolate too.”

“Hm?” Ichigo perked up and tried to peek into the bag, and Renji laughed and handed it to him. It was a fish-shaped chocolate bar with nougat for scales. Ichigo was a happy camper. He played with the little bauble a little more. “Good pick,” he said with his mouth full, “My favorite whale.”

“Well, not like I knew that,” Renji mumbled sheepishly, rubbing at his neck, “That’s everyone’s favorite whale.”

“Not Rukia,” Ichigo noted, taking another loud bite and snapping it off the bar. “She an’ I literally fought once about whether belugas or orcas were better.” He rolled his eyes at the memory, but Renji seemed to think it was funny.

“Hah!” He watched Ichigo eat for a second and then tentatively asked, “Hey, how is she?”

“Doin’ good, doin’ good.” Ichigo nodded his head and chewed. “I was with her this morning. We were talkin’ about you, actually.” Renji grunted, and went a little quiet.

Ichigo let him sweat it out for a little while, and eventually he urged, “What, what did she say?”

“Something about crazy monkeys.” Renji smiled a little at that, but his eyes cast down, just like Rukia’s did whenever Ichigo pestered her about Renji. “We should all hang out sometime,” Ichigo suggested.

Renji grimaced, glancing to the side uncomfortably. “Ah… I dunno’ if that’s a good idea,” he diverted.

Ichigo gave a long sigh and held off on the chocolate for a minute. “Look, I know you guys have some weird shit goin’ on, but it sounded like you were close.” With a rather stern look, he told him, “You shouldn’t let this go. This is the kind of crap you could regret for the rest of your life.” Renji didn’t reply, but he set his jaw, unspoken words clear as day. Ichigo rubbed his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s not my business-” he started.

“It ain’t,” Renji agreed, then smiled a bit, “but thanks for caring anyway.” He shrugged a little, hands in his pockets, and looked off into the distance a ways. “If it were as easy as that, we would’ve made up a while ago. There’s not really anything concrete we’re fighting over anyways,” he explained softly, his face relaxed and lost, eyes floating around. “I shouldn’t even say we’re fighting, we never had an actual argument.”

“What’s it all about then?” Ichigo tried asking, quietly, gently. Rukia had never told him what happened.

“Her brother,” Renji said shortly, giving no other explanation, and Ichigo closed his mouth. Renji smiled then, shrugging, “But eh, don’t worry about that. Let’s go,” he suggested, grinning with zeal. “I could eat a horse.”

“Aagh, me too!”

They went out for Thai food and pigged out. Ichigo couldn’t stop his chopsticks for a long long time. Every time they ordered new bowls, Renji would insist mild, very mild, _no spice –_ which made Ichigo wonder why they’d gone out for Thai in the first place.

Of course, then Ichigo found out that Renji didn’t like spicy food when Renji accidentally took a bite off the wrong plate and started to cough. Eventually he had to spit in his napkin and wiped his tongue, then drank a bunch of water looking quite distressed. “What, can’t take a little spice?” Ichigo had teased, but stopped once Renji had grunted ‘bad memories,’ rather darkly. After a few moments of awkward and silent apology, Ichigo tried to lighten the mood by betting he could eat more than Renji, and they left walking like ducks who couldn’t zip their pants.

They laughed a lot, gave each other shit all the time – they argued too, but not like he did with Grimmjow. It felt like they were getting closer every day. Ichigo really felt that if Rukia was here too, life would be completely… _complete._ Clear skies and sunshine together, and his heart-flower would flourish. 

He just wished it didn’t hurt them both so much to so much as think of each other. Ichigo would work on them – they couldn’t avoid each other forever.

After they walked off some of their dinner, Renji took him back to his dorm. Ichigo was a bit excited, as Renji had never taken him there before. Renji held his hand and led him along, telling him that Hisagi, his roommate, was out for the night, so they could have some privacy.

Turned out, Shuuhei was _not_ out for the night. In fact, once they got up there, they found that a ton of other people were in Renji’s apartment and there was music blasting in there.

“Uhhh,” Renji gaped, mouth ajar and eyes wide, staring at the door, which seemed to vibrate on its hinges.

“Renji?” Ichigo asked, head tilting. Renji turned to him with an apologetic smile and a kind of sweaty pallor.

“I’ll just be one sec’,” he said hurriedly, turning back to him again to urge, “Wait here.” Ichigo’s face fell, but he waited outside after Renji went in and slammed the door behind him – he could hear a bunch of shit going on inside.

“The fuck are you guys doing – I ain’t doin’ paperwork! Put that shit out and go home!” he could hear Renji yelling, the thick street-accent he used with his boys taking over his voice, then going strained and apologetic. “Shuuhei-… What? _No,_ I didn’t invite them!” Ichigo bit his lip. “This- this is not _my_ fault!... Well I’m sorry! Why didn’t you go to the library to study if it was this bad?”

Several bangs and loud voices went off inside, and the music turned off. Ichigo fidgeted a bit, starting to feel a bit insecure. He always forgot about this side of Renji. Maybe they weren’t as compatible as he’d thought…

They got along really well when they were alone together, but there were other circumstances to consider. Renji was well-known and adored by so many people. Despite all his good sides, all his hard work volunteering and in school, he was accustomed to this fast-paced and crazy life.

Why would Renji want to hang out with him anyways when he had so many other options open to him? Why would he ever be satisfied with just one man? Everyone knew what kind of person he was, and who was Ichigo? He was fooling himself if he thought Renji could be serious about him. Sure, people knew who Ichigo was too, but he was nothing really special. Just an average guy.

Renji couldn’t be serious about someone like him, not even if he wanted to be. Grimmjow was right. Rukia had been right.

He should just go home.

“Stop,” he muttered to himself, his throat tightening up. “Just stop it.”

Renji’s voice came through the wall again. _“No_ _,_ Bazz, I was _not_ free tonight, I have way _way_ more important things to-” Ichigo bit his lip and closed his eyes, sliding down the wall a tiny bit, his head clunking against the drywall. “Look, you guys have to leave. I know Matsumoto’s havin’ a bash, head over there. You’ve gotta’ get out,” Renji insisted, finally herding a few guys to the door and letting them out past Ichigo, who didn’t miss a few knowing jeers that Renji needed the place empty to get laid tonight.

“He’s totally hitting that.”

“Ahh, get outta’ here,” Renji muttered, shoving them along.

Hisagi slipped out last with his bag in hand, a headset on his neck, a hoodie on, and a somber wave. “Sorry, Shuuhei, I owe you,” Renji winced, but Hisagi shrugged.

“It’s cool, I’ll go ta’ Izuru’s,” he said shortly, then suggested, “Try an’ clean up some, guys.”

“Night, Senpai.” Renji sighed with a smile, then turned to Ichigo with his hands on his hips and a brisk breath. “Okay, whole place to ourselves. Got everyone to leave. They pretty much trashed it, but…” He frowned, coming towards him and peering into his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked in gentle concern.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, don’t let them bother you, they’re just screwin’ around,” he said weakly, shoulders slumping as he laughed almost helplessly.

“Yeah, I know,” Ichigo muttered, staring at his feet.

“But… you’re upset?” Renji guessed uncertainly, gazing at him like he was a pet whose tail he’d accidentally stepped on. He reached a hand out like he wanted to comfort him, and Ichigo looked up with a deep breath.

“Nah,” he shrugged, mustering up a tight smile. Renji’s frown didn’t ease.

“You wanna’ go home?” he offered tentatively.

“Nah, let’s just forget about it.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, “if you’re sure.”

“Yeah.” Ichigo smiled wider then, hands in his pockets. The silence stretched for a moment as Renji hesitantly smiled back, the tension easing. Then Ichigo smirked and teased, “Important things, huh?”

“Shut uuuup!” Renji hollered, shoving Ichigo inside.

The place _was_ trashed. Furniture was out of place, food scraps were all around, along with beer cans and a hastily unplugged amp system – plus the entire place smelled like pot. It was upperclassmen housing, so in other circumstances, the rooms might’ve looked kind of nice, but for now, Renji was left to try and shove most of the most obnoxious trash into a bag and then clean up a small area for them to use. Ichigo tried to help, gathering up cans and bottles and moving dishes to the sink, and tried to leave what looked like they could be Renji and Hisagi’s belongings where they were.

After the couch area was acceptably clean, they watched a movie there, and Ichigo was considerably consoled now that everyone was gone. What did get him thinking was that when they’d been at the movie theater, Renji had at least put his arm around him, and here they were in his _house_ _,_ yet he wasn’t making any sort of move this time. They weren’t even really touching at all other than their knees and Renji’s sprawled arm, which was admittedly behind him on the couch, but not around his shoulders. If Ichigo were honest, when Renji had brought him back here, he’d expected him to try something.

Ichigo kicked himself for doubting, for thinking Grimmjow could’ve been right. Grimmjow didn’t know Renji. He didn’t see how nice he was to Ichigo when they were together, he didn’t know how Renji looked at him.

After the movie ended, Renji put on some late-night show and asked lightly, “Mind if I get closer?”

Ichigo squirmed a little, excited, but managed to play it cool and mutter boredly, “Do what you want.”

Renji put his arm around him a bit and held him to him like he had in the theater, and Ichigo closed his eyes and swallowed, everything warming up as Renji snuggled their heads together. They talked during the commercials for a while, Ichigo humming responses and holding absolutely still, for fear that if he squirmed too much, Renji would stop, would let go.

Renji suddenly cut through their discussion with, “So hey,” separating them, to Ichigo’s grand disappointment. “We’ve been hangin’ out for a while now.”

Ichigo looked back at him, a bit cowed by the proximity. He felt weird making eye-contact with someone only a few inches away. Renji hadn’t removed his arm from around his shoulders, so their faces were alarmingly close. If Ichigo wanted, he could easily lean in and kiss him right on the lips. He tried not to let that thought show on his face.

“Yeah,” he acknowledged lightly, “Yeah, I know.”

Renji smiled and squirmed, as if in anticipation. “You’re a really good guy, Ichigo. You’re cool,” he said, as if explaining something, “I like you a lot.”

“Uh…” Ichigo cleared his throat awkwardly, not knowing what he was meant to say to that. “Thank you.”

“Do you like me?” Renji questioned directly, smile relaxing somewhat to give way for a rather curious and urgent expression to take over his face, his eyes drilling into Ichigo’s almost anxiously.

“Uh, yeah.” Ichigo coughed, cheeks flushing. “I guess.” Renji lit up.

“Awesome.” He hummed a sigh then, leaning in a bit, nudging at the side of Ichigo’s face with his temple, which made him lock up in surprise at the sudden touch of their faces pressing together. Voice low and rumbling through his chest, Renji muttered, “So you know what this means, right? You know what happens next.”

Ichigo swallowed, suddenly understanding – but he’d been prepared. Grimmjow had prepared him for this day. He gulped and closed his eyes, nodding, his breathing and heart rate increasing. Renji leaned in and kissed him warmly, his hand on Ichigo’s cheek. Ichigo just accepted it, stiff as a board.

“Great,” Renji hummed onto Ichigo’s lips, his breath hot and wet. “So what do you say?”

Taking a shaky breath or two, Ichigo rasped, “Ask it out loud.”

“Hm?”

Ichigo screwed his eyes shut, but growled in annoyance, “I’m not answering if you don’t ask it out loud!”

“Okay,” Renji seemed to smile amusedly, his thumb stroking Ichigo’s cheek. “If it means so much…” Ichigo curled his toes up and gripped Renji’s shirt in his hands. This was it… this was really it… They were alone and it was time, and he was… ready, maybe. God, this was all so thrilling and scary.

Renji cleared his throat almost uncertainly and put forth with a grin in his voice, “Ichigo, do you wanna’ go steady?”

Ichigo opened his eyes and pushed away from Renji, surprised and suspicious. His first thought was that Renji was making fun of him, but as he blinked at Renji and stared at his face, Renji just blinked back at him in confusion. Ichigo’s fingers trembled and his mind reeled in disbelief. Renji’s loose reputation preceded him, and yet he was asking Ichigo that so seriously? He didn't really mean that, did he? Had Ichigo been mistaken about this whole thing? Did Renji really…? He really did want to date Ichigo, just him?

… Wow! This is the craziest thing to happen to him in a long time.

Ichigo swallowed, his breath coming out in a hot pant as he dazedly said, “Go steady?” He found it in him to smirk, his heart pumping overtime as it finally caught on to this wonderful development. “You really are an old man.”

Renji huffed rather embarrassedly and Ichigo full-on grinned, as it wasn’t often he could turn the tables on him like that. Rather defensively, Renji scowled somewhat sheepishly and said, “I’m tryin’a’ do this right, I know you’re a virgin!” That wiped the look off Ichigo’s face, but Renji wasn’t done. “I’m gonna’ damn well do this right!”

“What does…” he flushed, then burst, _“that_ have to do with it?!” He whacked Renji across the head. “And who said I wanted a prince, dumbass?” He hunkered down on the couch then, scowling and crossing his arms. “Knock it off, it’s fucking annoying.”

Renji adjusted his bandanna with a frown, but after looking at Ichigo quietly for a few minutes, this big smirk crossed his face, and Ichigo sunk more in his seat, glaring, but it made no difference. “More like you’re embarrassed when I romance you, aren’t you,” Renji pinpointed smugly, to which Ichigo tried to leap to stop him, but was too late. “It’s decided. Imma’ keep doin’ it.” Getting in Ichigo’s face, he cooed jokingly, “Ichigo, do me the honor of giving yourself to me~”

“Go fuck yourself!” Ichigo howled, shoving him back by the face as he made kissy-noises at him. Renji paused, perfectly content to just lean against Ichigo’s hands, despite the way they pulled back his forehead and cheek.

“I dunno’ how flexible you think I am, but…”

Ichigo finally cracked then, a smile bubbling up. “Pfft-” They both began laughing at that, and Ichigo let go of Renji’s face, causing him to flop down on top of him.

Once their laughter calmed, Renji gave him a sneaky kind of smile, which made Ichigo narrow his eyes. “Really though, for serious,” Renji began, hands spread, “I get the feeling you’re on the fence. Lemme’ present the merits of going out with me.” Ichigo let out a snort, trying to look uninterested, but he still listened.

“You’ll be my special boy, so I’ll totally spoil you and treat you nice,” Renji listed with a satisfied nod, then gave a big grin, “Also consider – I’m pretty hot, an’ I’m a lotta’ fun.” Smiling at Ichigo, he said with a lower tone and a tilt of his head, as if enticing a child, maybe holding out something sweet to them and offering it. “Plus as my sweetheart, you get a free pass ta’ hold me whenever you want,” he coaxed, raising his eyebrows, “Redeemable at any time.”

“Your special boy, huh?” Ichigo muttered, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Renji nodded, “You get all my lovin’.” He wiggled around a bit, kind of ruining his whole smooth-talking bit. “Once in a lifetime deal,” he offered, his voice lilting up at the end.

“Mhm, mhm,” Ichigo nodded shortly, thumb at his cheek, as he decided to play along, “Okay, I acknowledge the merits.” Renji straightened, beaming. “What about the demerits?” Ichigo teased, “That you’re a super annoying full-of-himself bastard?”

Renji smirked right back, “Well I’m told my stamina is incredibly taxing,” then rolled his eyebrows. Ichigo used all his willpower not to appear embarrassed or flustered.

“I was gonna’ say yes until you did the eyebrow thing.”

“No wait, I’ll pull my bandanna down next time,” Renji laughed.

Ichigo took a few breaths, before raising his eyes to Renji’s crinkly smiling ones hesitantly. “… If you’re sure about this,” he started, fidgeting, his words falling off.

“Wait, for real?” Renji’s face went alarmingly slack in what looked like horror, and Ichigo’s stomach swooped in dread and humiliation. Fuck, had he just been joking this whole time?

Withdrawing bitterly, and feeling horribly humiliated, Ichigo muttered, “Well if you were fucking joking, then just forget it.”

“No!” Renji shouted, laughing nervously and holding him by the arm to try and pull him back. “What? No, I meant it!” he insisted. “I just-” he sputtered, and Ichigo watched in a sort of guarded curiosity. Was Renji flustered? “You wanna’ date me?” Renji finally blurted, agog – seriously, Ichigo was hardly able to look at him, he was so openly surprised.

“Yeah, sure, I guess,” Ichigo mumbled shyly, although it came out kind of cranky sounding, considering he was looking at his lap and practically growled out the words.

“Really?”

Grimacing and unable to take this kind of aghast incredulous reaction, Ichigo finally burst, “You’re the one who just asked and tried to convince me of the benefits of dating you, I dunno’ why you’re acting like this now!” He scowled and spat lowly, his entire nose and forehead hot and flushed bright pink, “I said yeah.”

This gorgeous elated smile slowly came over Renji’s face, and suddenly he swelled with a happy breath and shouted, “Yes!” Ichigo watched, bewildered, as Renji fist pumped and crowed shortly, “Wooh!”

“Shh! Shh!” Still a bit embarrassed and blushy, he crossed his arms and muttered, “I dunno’ what you’re so excited about.”

Renji took him by the hunched shoulder and looked him in the face, still beaming uncontrollably. _“You,_ you dingbat!” he said with far too much volume and excitement.

 _‘I’m no big deal,’_ Ichigo thought, but Renji’s warm smile as he moved in to kiss him told him differently, and he didn’t feel so insecure anymore as he wrapped his arms around Renji’s shoulders and kissed him back, letting the tension and embarrassment out with a shaky sigh. Renji clung onto him and kept smiling onto his mouth as they kissed, squeezing him like he’d just won the lottery.

Everything would work out. It was a promise. Ichigo felt like mush in Renji’s strong hands.

They kissed for a time, gradually growing more and more enthusiastic. They even tried a little tongue-kissing. Ichigo could taste a bit of metal: Renji’s fillings. He hoped in turn that Renji couldn’t taste his inexperience. He had no idea what he was doing, and was just trying to go with it as Renji suckled at his mouth. Renji didn’t seem let down in any way by his lazy uncertain responses; he was holding Ichigo so tight, and just kissed and kissed him, squeezing him against his body happily.

Eventually Ichigo mumbled questioningly, his lips wet and warm against Renji’s, “Renji?”

“Yeah?” Renji hummed back, his voice husky and low in his chest as he continued to kiss at the corner of Ichigo’s mouth, his cheek.

“I gotta’ piss,” he admitted, as much as he’d like to stay and kiss for another ten minutes, a guy’s gotta’ go. Renji blinked his eyes open, stared, and then laughed, showing him the bathroom.

Ichigo went into the trashed and nasty bathroom and peed, breathing deeply and taking care not to compulsively wipe his wet mouth. It was stupid, but he wanted Renji’s kiss to stay there, _his boyfriend’s kiss._

He looked in the mirror. Oh god, what did he do, he has a boyfriend, what the hell does he do. How had his life changed so much in just a few weeks? Not long ago, he hadn't even dreamed this big, and now he had it in his grasp. Shakily, he washed his hands and found he couldn’t stop smiling despite never having felt more scared and uncertain in his entire life – he didn’t think he’d ever been this up either.

When he came back out and headed down the hall, he could hear Renji talking excitedly, and soon realized he was on the phone. “Rukia?”

“Hello, this is Kuchiki Rukia.” Ichigo didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but suddenly, he didn’t want to interrupt, and lingered in the doorway. He watched as Renji hunched forward on the couch, clutching his phone to his ear with both hands, his body practically vibrating.

“Rukia, you won’t believe it,” he burst as soon as she picked up, blurting it all out on one huge breath, “I’ve met the most amazing person, an’ we- It’s- I’m crazy! I feel _crazy!_ ” he laughed breathlessly, putting a hand to his forehead. “Seriously, I’ve got the _tingles,”_ he gasped, his voice strained and raw, “I don’t even know what to do, I’m so happy.”

He paused then, his voice becoming laden with dread, and he pulled on his hair, gripping his phone tight. “Oh god, Rukia, what do I-”

“-a message and I’ll get back to you. Go Chappy!” There was a long beep, and a silence, and Renji held the phone to his ear for a moment, as if frozen. Ichigo wanted more than anything to just go back into the bathroom and pretend he hadn’t heard any of it, but as he watched, Renji just sat there and stared at his phone until the screen dimmed, and heart aching, Ichigo came back into the room.

“You know, you should really talk to her,” he said gently, but all the same, Renji whipped around violently, a combination of startled, embarrassed, and angry.

“What did you hear?” he demanded.

Ichigo shrugged, “Nothin’ too crazy.” He hummed for a moment. “Sky’s blue. Rukia loves Chappy. You’re a dork. You know, facts of li- _aaagh!_ ” Near the end of his teasing list, Renji grabbed him in a headlock and dragged him over the back of the couch, getting on top of him and shoving his head into the cushion.

“Uncle!” Ichigo shouted into the pillow, voice muffled and tight as he slapped at the side of the couch. Fuck, Renji’s knee was in his back, pushing his breath out. “Okay!”

Renji dropped down on top of him, holding him under the arms, head shoved between his shoulderblades. He didn’t say anything or make any noise, and wouldn’t show him his face, simply hugging him around the chest and laying on him. Ichigo lay still for a time, trying to recover his breath, then twisted his head out and to the side.

Hesitantly, he tried, “If you wanna’ talk about it-”

“I don’t.” Ichigo went quiet and limp at his sad tone, but Renji didn’t say anything else for a time. Just as he was about to try again, Renji finally said, almost in a whisper, voice incredibly raspy, “… I just wanted to share this with her.”

And Ichigo ached and ached, thinking of how he’d had a similar reaction once things had started getting serious – how all he’d wanted to do was tell Rukia, show her this happiness he’d found, share it with her so she could marvel at it and be proud of it. Renji didn’t have that.

They were quiet for a while again, until finally Renji lifted off of him and rolled Ichigo over onto his back so he could level him with a sober look. “I’m serious about this,” he told him. “I’m gonna’ do this right.” Rubbing Ichigo’s face a bit, he insisted, “I won’t screw this up.”

Ichigo scrunched his brow. “No one said you would.”

“You know what I mean,” Renji huffed, scrunching his brow right back when Ichigo didn’t respond the way he wanted.

“Not really,” he muttered back with a grimace. Renji frowned.

“I said I wanna’ do this right,” he clarified slowly, as if Ichigo were really stupid, then he scratched his nose somewhat uncomfortably. “I haven’t done that before,” he confessed, eyes flicking up almost shyly, and everything inside Ichigo went still and quiet. “Like, you know… made things official,” Renji explained gruffly. “In _name.”_

“So, like…” Ichigo considered, “I’m making an honest man a’ you?” Renji’s expression soured at his teasing.

“You ain’t makin’ nothin’,” he spat petulantly, folding his arms, and Ichigo’s grin grew, and he prodded at him a little more.

“I’m flattered, but I’m too young ta’ be a husband.” Renji whacked him then, and maybe he’d deserved that one.

“Shut up!” he snapped, imploring more earnestly, “Be serious.”

Ichigo grimaced a little, squirming and mumbling, “I think you’re making too big a deal…”

“It’s a serious undertaking!” Renji protested, lower lip sticking out. Ichigo scratched at his hair.

“Not really,” he said, not matching Renji’s volume or drama. “We already went on a couple dates. You don’t have to do anything other than what you’ve already been doing. No reason’a’ get so excited…”

“So what if I’m excited,” Renji said confusedly, wrinkling his nose. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I already said I don’t know what you’re excited about,” Ichigo mumbled rather sulkily.

“And I already said you’re a dingbat,” Renji repeated flatly. “The facts have been established.”

“What?” Ichigo frowned, to which Renji rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Are you an idiot?”

Ichigo puffed himself up, blurting, “Who’s an idiot?!” Renji just shook his head.

“You’re a fucking walnut.”

“What even-” he sputtered, to which Renji groaned and scrubbed his face.

“You are so fucking dumb!” With an incredulous laugh and an annoyed expression, Renji exclaimed, “You have no idea how great you are!” Ichigo grimaced awkwardly and sighed.

“Ugh, cut it out,” he begged, feeling alarmingly as he did when Rukia tried hugging him – warm inside, but unbearably so.

“-and that’s for _me,_ _”_ Renji said, as though marveling at it. “My boyfriend,” he practically whispered to himself. “That’s crazy.” Shaking his head, he said it again, as if to impress it on Ichigo. “My _boyfriend,_ Ichigo.” Sighing with a smile, he mumbled dazedly, “I’m luckier than Ikkaku tonight.” Then he brought Ichigo in for a passionate happy kiss, humming tightly onto his mouth and releasing him with a smack.

“I don’t know who that is,” Ichigo said through muffled lips and cheeks that were being squashed together by Renji’s hands. Renji had been leaning in to kiss him again, but then he drew back as though startled, gazing into Ichigo’s face with numb shock.

“Shit, that’s right!” Renji bounced up, holding Ichigo’s face tightly in his hands, his eyes bright. Ichigo bore with it, letting him manhandle him for a while. “You’ve gotta’ meet my parents – you’ve got to meet everybody!” Renji said with a sort of aghast excitement. “Shit, I have to show you ta’ Izuru and Momo and-”

Ichigo pried one hand off his face and snapped, “Stop getting so excited!” Overwhelmed and embarrassed by how happy Renji was about having him, he mumbled petulantly, “I’m regretting this already!”

“You won’t, I promise,” Renji gasped, an incredulous and overwhelmingly happy smile plastered on his face. “We’re partners now. That means I’ve decided I’ll fight by your side to your last breath,” he said seriously, eyes still sparkling. “I swear.”

“Swear ta’ who?” Ichigo frowned.

“No one.” Renji gave a slow smile, and Ichigo felt warm from his head to his toes as he remembered what he’d told Renji before after the river cleanup. Like an echo of his own passionate voice, it came back to him, “I just swear.”

Renji then spat into his palm and held it out. Ichigo looked at it for a moment, then spat into his own hand, and they clasped them together.

“Me too,” Ichigo said, gazing back up at Renji in wonder, heart pounding wildly. Renji gave a satisfied noise and smiled, leaning in. Ichigo met him that time, and they kissed.

Renji laced their fingers, and their wrists were cold and wet with dribbling saliva and mucus, and it felt gross, but nothing had ever felt more right, more sure.

Ichigo was warm in bed that night, still able to feel Renji’s hand against his face, his thumb against the front of his ear and his fingers curled around his neck, their hands clasped together. Renji’s heartbeat was very slow and loud, the sign of a strong and healthy heart.

Grimmjow was out that night, and Ichigo snuggled into the blankets in the peace and quiet of the empty room and closed his eyes to dream happy dreams.


	17. Ichigo Has a Boyfriend

Jump ahead three weeks and everything was going as wonderfully between them as one might hope for a relationship in which both participants were first-timers to go.

Today Grimmjow was out of the dorm, so Ichigo had Renji over. It was the only time Renji _could_ be over at his place, really. Having Renji and Grimmjow within shouting or gesturing distance of each other was a recipe for disaster. To say the least, the two men didn’t gel at all.

See, Ichigo and Grimmjow didn’t always get along, but at least Ichigo has learned how to live with Grimmjow and circumvent some of his more… _volatile_ tendencies. Ichigo knew Grimmjow’s brand of passive-aggressive, which, if you didn’t realize, completely breezed past the ‘passive’ part.

Renji on the other hand, was out of his depth completely with Grimmjow’s explosive and unpredictable mood swings.

It was bad enough to deal with Grimmjow for periods exceeding five minutes on a good day, but it was made all the worse due to the fact that Grimmjow had decided that he _didn’t like_ Renji – which wasn’t good, considering Grimmjow had exactly three modes: ‘You’re alright,’ ‘Who are you again?’ and _‘I fucking hate you and I hope you fucking die.’_ Unfortunately, Renji fell into the latter category, as a large swathe of the entire human population did.

Ichigo had foolishly had hopes that the three of them might find some way to coexist in a confined space for as small an interval as one or two hours, but the thing was, neither Grimmjow nor Renji had the willpower to resist picking shit and to just keep their fucking mouths shut.

For example, if say, Grimmjow was playing video games by himself after Ichigo had put his foot down and told him that if he didn’t want to get out of the apartment while Renji was over then he’d better fucking _shut up_ and go do shit quietly in the corner, Grimmjow still wouldn’t be able to resist occasionally calling some sarcastic shittalk over his shoulder, unable to fully ignore them. Sadly, Renji didn’t have much more patience than Grimmjow did, and the result was all out warfare. Since obviously Renji didn’t like the constant interjections and scathing insults – especially the attacks to his masculinity, because Grimmjow was really fucking mean and never aimed anywhere but below the belt – he would respond with a direct challenge, and Grimmjow never turned those down. Ichigo would get fed up with the both of them for acting like middle schoolers.

All of which resulted in the room getting torn apart, people getting hurt, and everyone catching hell from the RA. Which meant no more hanging out at Ichigo’s place unless Grimmjow was gone.

And you know, Ichigo got it. His roommate and boyfriend had personalities that just didn’t mix. It even happened between him and Renji at times too – it was bound to when tempers burned so hot and so quickly. The difference was that when he and Renji got mad at each other, they were still both rational people who cared about things like the law and facts and boundaries and _common sense._ By contrast, Grimmjow was completely batshit insane.

Anyways, the fact that those two couldn’t be in the same room was really inconvenient, because that meant he and Renji could only do low-energy shit like nap or study or bum around when Grimmjow was gone or when Renji’s rooms weren’t being used for a block party, or weirdly, a study group.

Ichigo probably should have expected complications, considering their differences, and also that it was _Grimmjow_ for god’s sake. For one, he was downright unpleasant at the best of times and absolutely intolerable at the worst, and for two, he was just naturally really rude, and while Renji was very polite and civil in formal situations, outside of them he was hotheaded and completely unafraid of confrontation, meaning that they quite literally butted heads.

The first time Ichigo had tried to have Renji over while Grimmjow had been there, the two had come to blows alarmingly quickly. Grimmjow had since made it plain that he didn’t like Renji – read: he couldn’t fucking stand him – and Ichigo could only assume that it was probably because Renji was a rival for his attention.

Grimmjow could be pretty fucking awful to him, but he _really didn’t like it_ when he had to share him, and well, since Renji also really enjoyed spending time with him and took up a large chunk of his attention nowadays, it wasn’t surprising that Grimmjow was openly hostile towards him. Ichigo knew he couldn’t change Grimmjow, but he wished that he wouldn’t make Ichigo choose between them, because he knew that Grimmjow needed him too and kind of went nuts without him, but he liked Renji, okay? He wanted to be with Renji too, and since Grimmjow had forced him to, he often had to pick Renji over his friend – which as you could imagine, didn’t make him very happy.

Let’s see, when Grimmjow had found out Ichigo had entered an official relationship with Renji, he had broken every piece of glassware they owned – except Ichigo’s favorite mug that had once been his mom’s. Batshit. _Insane._ That wasn’t even the whole of it though. The first time Ichigo had left to go hang out with his boyfriend instead of Grimmjow because he was being a total jackass, he’d come home to find that he’d gotten new dishware and also chain-smoked a couple packs. When he guilted Ichigo enough that he hung around with him instead, he made sure to make snide remarks about Renji day in and day out, and if Ichigo ignored him, he took it to extreme measures of writing scary shit on the bathroom mirror or not shutting up when he was trying to sleep. Once he’d even just disappeared for like three days at once and then showed back up one night without a word. Basically, living with him lately has been hell.

Anyway, all this meant that rather than chilling at home, Ichigo and Renji almost always went out instead – which, on the upside, meant lots of dates and other fun activities.

Today though, Grimmjow was out with his sister – Not Tia; Nel, the only one of his siblings that he could stand, although he still pretended not to like her. She and Ichigo had a strange relationship, because they never really talked, but they’d sometimes sent each other updates on Grimmjow’s antics. This morning she’d let Ichigo know that Grimmjow was going to be with her, which put him at ease to know that he wasn’t going to come back to find Grimmjow had burned their clothes or hung himself out the window by his ankles.

When the cat’s away, Renji and Ichigo play – meaning they finally had a chance to relax and just coexist for a while.

Ichigo quietly studied at his desk while Renji lounged on the floor by his bed with a stack of _Manly Stuff_ magazines and chattered at him.

“Hm?” he repeated dozily after Renji gave him a few-minutes-long rundown on how his favorite sunglasses had been broken in a scuffle at work. “With who?”

“My boss.” Ichigo lifted his head and blinked at that one, even turning around briefly, but Renji was focused on the shades, nose in the magazine. He hadn’t failed to notice that Renji was mouthing the words but wouldn’t read them aloud around him, and instead chose to pretend he hadn’t realized. “How do you like these glasses?”

“Glasses?” Ichigo repeated.

“Yeah! I’m thinking of buying some really cool ones,” Renji informed far too enthusiastically.

“Quit asking about every single thing you see in there,” Ichigo replied in a soft mellow tone, distracted and popping his head back and forth as he read.

 _“ Oh! ”_ God, he was noisy. “How are these?!” Maybe he’d turned the magazine to show him, Ichigo didn’t know, he just kept reading.

“They’re fine,” he answered.

“I’ll get them! I’m gonna’ look so cool.” Ichigo nodded a bit absently, and then after a pause and a flutter of paper came the carefully neutral question, “Ichigo, are you listening?”

“Mhmmmm.”

The next query came from near his ear, as Renji came up behind him. Ichigo leaned away a bit. “Are you almost done yet?”

“Renji, quiet,” he mumbled, gently and dazedly brushing at Renji’s face, pushing it away.

“Pay attention to meee.” Ichigo hummed back, eyes not dragged away from his text. That is, until they were forcibly removed when Renji suddenly swiped the book away and held it over his head.

“Give me that back!” Ichigo demanded, spinning in his chair and glaring. Renji stuck his tongue out, shut the book to deliberately lose Ichigo's page, and then tossed it on the bed. He leaned down and kissed Ichigo on the nose hard, pressing his lips onto him with a punctuated hum. Ichigo shoved him away by the cheek and rubbed the bridge of his nose where Renji had pushed his glasses into his face.

“Don’t do that! You know I have a cold!” Renji just grinned almost gloatingly, and Ichigo gave him a deadpan glare.

“You know what they say,” Renji lectured, “only idiots get colds in the summer.”

“Are you dumb?! It’s October!”

Renji sighed gustily and threw himself over Ichigo’s bed, lounging on it like he owned it, head hanging upside down over the edge. Ichigo glared, fists on his hips as he noticed that Renji had carefully placed the book underneath his back. Figuring he wasn’t going to get that back without a fight, he sighed, resigned to playing along with Renji’s whims.

Renji settled against his blankets with a pleased sigh, and then suddenly straightened up a bit with a grin. “Oh dude, I love this game,” he noted happily, and to Ichigo’s dismay, he saw that Renji had spotted a well-used soda-stained Mad Libs book. “Wanna’ play?” Renji grabbed it and flipped through to a new page.

Ichigo cringed uncertainly. “Uhh… We probably shouldn’t,” he muttered, scratching at the back of his neck. He wasn’t in the mood to fight right now. Grimmjow’s moods had been enough of a test of patience. He really hoped Renji didn’t get on his case too. It’s just, that was one of the things that he and Grimmjow did together that brought them both real joy, and he knew that if he did that thing with Renji, Grimmjow might just implode. Implosion was always to be avoided.

“Huh?” Renji frowned lightly. “Why not?”

“Uhhhh,” Ichigo tried to think of a reason that didn’t involve the truth, and then settled on, “How about we use the app?”

“Why not the book?” Renji wondered, then was quiet for a minute. He didn’t squint menacingly like Grimmjow did when he was trying to figure something out, he kind of just stared thoughtfully with a slight frown. “... Would he get mad?” he accurately assessed.

Ichigo already had his phone out and was scrolling for a free app of the game. “Adult or kids version?”

“...” Ichigo looked up when Renji didn’t say anything, only to see him grimacing a bit with his eyebrow raised. However, he’d conceded to put the book back where it had been resting by Grimmjow’s bed, on his dresser.

Ichigo wilted, shoulders slumping, and he admitted tiredly, “It’ll hurt his feelings, okay?”

Renji’s frown deepened a bit with a touch of exasperation. “You mean he’ll get really mad and try to kill you?”

“Yeah,” he sputtered, “but he’ll be _hurt.”_

“...” Renji didn’t nod or otherwise respond, but he did lean back on Ichigo’s bed and stretch his legs out across the mattress, watching him. Ichigo came and sat behind his feet, back against the wall, his legs resting over Renji’s crossed ankles.

“Look, he’s a part of my life and he’s not going away. There’s stuff I do with Grimmjow, and stuff I do with you,” Ichigo tried to explain, and Renji smiled a little bit then. He didn’t nod, but didn’t question him either.

“Mmm,” he hummed his acknowledgement, reaching an arm out to wrap around Ichigo’s waist to coax him over to cuddle.

“You get it, right?” Ichigo tried, maybe a bit worriedly, as he held himself up by the arms.

“I get it,” Renji whispered and pulled him down for a kiss, which Ichigo sighed into contentedly until he realized Renji had tricked him again.

“Renji, I have a fucking cold!”

They’d dated for three weeks and spent every day off doing something together. Renji had shown him to his closest friends and he had in turn met Keigo. The lotus had since begun falling apart in the bowl, the petals floating in the mysteriously fresh water until they withered up and dropped to the bottom.

Having a boyfriend wasn’t so hard. Really, it was like he’d told Renji. He didn’t really have to do anything differently from before. Everything was just all out in the open. The only thing that had changed was that they spent more time together.

By all accounts, things were moving very slowly. Renji hadn’t done much more than hold his hand and occasionally peck his lips or other parts of his head; ear, nose, forehead, cheek, hair – it didn’t seem to matter. He didn’t seem bugged that Ichigo wasn’t very affectionate. That was a point where they differed greatly, Renji being a very passionate and openly caring guy who was touchy-feely even towards acquaintances, shoulder-slapping and ruffling hair and patting backs, while Ichigo was the complete opposite, usually only ever touching others when in a fight, or in a Rukia-hug.

Ichigo has adjusted well to Renji’s loving personality being directed towards him full blast, and Renji in turn hasn’t pushed him at all or ever seemed disappointed when Ichigo didn't reciprocate fully. He’s never made Ichigo feel like he wasn’t giving him what he needed. There’s been no pressuring on either side, and nothing had really happened yet, nothing that accounted for a major step forward; no real making out or handjobs or quickies. It seemed almost weird to think about considering Ichigo still got a thrill out of Renji's hand touching his hand. It was  _weird_ to think about Renji's past and his reputation, about how differently he was being treated, about how around this time, they should have done it upside down and sideways and on camera and on a fire escape and then separated to find the next thing already. 

It felt surreal to know that he was somehow the one who got all of Renji's love. 

Yeah, there it was. Another aspect of being in a relationship besides physical contact that took some getting used to was that Renji was still Renji. He still did his volunteer work, he was still busy to bursting, and most especially, he was still one of the most known and recognized faces on campus and pretty much everywhere else, meaning that the attention Renji usually got when he was out and about now fell on Ichigo too, considering they walked together a lot. It was almost overwhelming, the amount of attention they got. It didn't help that Renji was shameless in front of others, and proudly held his hand and showed him off and introduced him as his boyfriend to everyone who asked. Apparently, on top of it all, Twitter had also exploded after Renji had posted a picture of them like, _the day after_ they’d started going out, and had captioned it ‘check out my boyfriend, grade A dork machine.’

Keigo had been the one to let Ichigo know about the photo, which somewhat explained how everybody seemed to know they were dating all of a sudden. It had been kind of weird and creepy until he’d been told about the picture. Since then, Ichigo has been getting a lot of weird comments and strangers talking to him, not to mention lots and lots of staring – more than was normal. Really though, Renji knew _everybody,_ so he'd just have to live with it. 

Ichigo was used to random people bothering him and acting like they knew him personally – he figured it was his hair or something, or that he actually had in fact met them before but had just forgotten their names and faces, so he’d stopped paying attention to it a long time ago, but this was completely different. It seemed like he was constantly being watched and talked about, and even more so when he and Renji were together somewhere.

It was a bit perturbing, but not enough that he'd reconsidered. It’s been worth it. Although Ichigo had not point of reference, Renji was a really good boyfriend. He hadn’t stopped ‘wooing’ him after they’d begun dating – in fact, he’d kicked into high gear. Renji went out of his way to try and see him on his lunch break every day, they’d go on walks when they only had a ten minutes or so, and went on dates whenever there was sufficient time. Renji bent over backwards to fit Ichigo into his crazy life. He always asked Ichigo about his day, and would share food with him, and tell him stories. He teased Ichigo even more than he had when they hadn’t been dating, but he was also incredibly nice and sweet to balance it. A notable instance was that when Ichigo had caught his cold, Renji had brought him cough drops and a designer surgical mask and had tried to comfort him and take care of him, even though Ichigo had insisted that he was barely even sick.

He was feeling much better after a couple days. They had a date today. They’d planned to meet later on after their classes let out.

Ichigo was in the Lit. building dropping off an essay, and after coming back out of the office section with his thermos of coffee and a scarf around his neck, he caught sight of Renji near the lounge area and the bathrooms. Figuring they could meet up a little earlier than they’d planned, he walked up to him, intending to call his name, but refrained when he saw that he was talking to Professor Kuchiki.

Renji’s brow was furrowed and his eyes were shifting around, and Ichigo could see that he had an arm behind his back, his hand in a fist. He was coiled up tight and was doing that thing he did when he talked formally, where he bowed his head a bit each time he started to speak, like he was silently apologizing for existing or something; Ichigo hated seeing him do that.

He slowed a bit, thinking maybe he shouldn’t interrupt. It wasn’t time for their date yet anyways, and it looked like an important discussion that Renji wouldn’t appreciate him butting in to. Standing a ways away, Ichigo considered walking off. However, Renji spotted him, and when he did, his back straightened and his head popped up, the fist unwrapping. Seeing that he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed them now, he approached, and as he did, Renji smiled and cut the conversation short. Byakuya’s face was stony and cold as always.

“What’s goin’ on?” It was half a greeting, half a legitimate question. He looked between their faces in evaluation and wondered rather sickly what had been going on just then to make Renji’s shoulders tense and his head droop like that. Had Byakuya been reprimanding him or something?

Renji smiled easily. “Ahh, nothin’, Ichigo, just discussing my grades. I guess I’m behind on some stuff.” He glanced up to the silent Professor Kuchiki for a fraction of a second, but Ichigo still caught it, and frowned. Renji gave no other indication of anything funny going on, and prompted, “You ready ta’ head out?”

Ichigo withdrew a little bit, waving a hand, “Well, I don’t wanna’ interrupt…”

“It is of no consequence,” Byakuya finally spoke, and it sobered both of them instantly, Renji’s smile melting off as if drained away. Ichigo hadn’t been smiling in the first place, but he did flick his eyes to Byakuya and scowled a tiny bit. “This conversation is clearly over.”

 _‘ Dick.’_ Ichigo pressed his lips together and didn’t say anything. Renji gave the shallowest bow acceptable and quickly said a goodbye to his professor.

“Later Byakuya,” Ichigo said.

Renji tightly muttered, “Let’s go,” lowly, as if it were meant only for his ears. As they walked away, Renji had an arm around Ichigo’s shoulder as he sometimes did, and he pressed a kiss against the side of his head for one second, two. Why was Renji’s heart beating so fast? He could feel it pounding hard and quick where his ribcage pressed onto his side, where his hand gripped into Ichigo's arm.

Ichigo tried to look back to scrutinize Byakuya some more, but Renji said, “Don’t turn around,” and Ichigo’s blood froze.

Once they got out of view, turning the corner of the hallway, Renji groaned and released him in favor of scrubbing at his face. Ichigo squirmed and pet his hair down. “Ugh,” Renji grumbled, shaking himself.

“What was that about?” Ichigo demanded.

Renji just shook his head with a heavy sigh and told him, “Nothing, he’s just givin’ me hell as usual,” and then said nothing else for the entire walk to the elevator.

See, that was weird. Ichigo had learned a lot about Renji in the past few weeks, and one thing that was impossible to miss was that the guy hardly ever shut up. Okay, that was an exaggeration. It wasn’t as obnoxious or annoying as all that – Ichigo actually liked Renji’s endless supply of wacky stories and his willingness to listen to mundane problems or some crazy thing that had happened to Ichigo and then talk it to death, and let’s be real, some sort of crazy shit happened to at least one of them probably once a day. Renji’s constant talking and bubbly _alive_ personality was one of the reasons Ichigo had fallen for him.

The point he was trying to make was that Grimmjow was full of shit about that talking thing, because Renji was definitely a talker, meaning it was very easy to tell when something had upset him, because those were the only times he _didn’t_ want to talk about something. He’d get really quiet, like right now.

This was weird shit. If it had been a mere matter of Byakuya yanking Renji around and pissing him off, he would’ve been eager to rant and complain about it – as he often did – but now, Renji had gone kind of quiet. Whatever he and Byakuya had been talking about, it had really bothered him.

Ichigo never knew what to do when he got like this other than wait for him to stop, and luckily by the time they had made it outside, Renji had perked up.

“I’m glad ta’ see you,” Renji noted with a grin. “You feelin' better?”

Ichigo soured. “I told you, I’m not sick.” A headcold didn’t count as _sick_ as far as he was concerned. You couldn’t go to the doctor for it, and there was no cure except suffering through it, and it couldn’t be used as an excuse to miss school or work, so to him, it didn’t count as sick.

“You sounded like a frog.”

“Not true,” he stubbornly denied, and didn’t think about how Renji had brought him soup when his cough had gotten bad.

“A bullfrog then,” Renji joked, grinning at his own cleverness. “Y’know.”

“Renji, I swear to god.”

“Since you’re so full of bullsh-”

 _“ I got the joke ,”_ Ichigo cut him off loudly, and then admitted in a mumble, “Maybe I was a little off.”

“You better then?” Renji prompted, checking him over as they walked, and Ichigo sighed, bearing with it and hiding a smile.

“Yeah, much. Tea’s helped my throat.” He took a sip of his drink as if to punctuate his statement.

Renji raised an eyebrow and gave a big grin. “Tea, huh.” He snatched Ichigo’s thermos and took a big swallow before Ichigo could process what was happening or scold him for sharing his recently-sick-germs. Immediately, Renji heaved and spat it in the grass, coughing loudly. “Bleh,” he finally croaked.

Oh god. Ichigo rolled his eyes. “That’s what you get for stealing.” Renji kept coughing and wiping his tongue and trying to ask what the hell was in there. “What, you don’t drink coffee?”

“Coffee?” Renji straightened up, eyes watering. “I hate it. Disgusting!” He wiped his tongue on his sleeve some more, like a little boy.

“What are you, five?” Ichigo scoffed.

_“What did you say?”_

“Idiot.” Ichigo grimaced as Renji coughed a couple more times, spitting.

“That was really bitter,” he whined, screwing his face up in disgust. “I really don’t like that.”

“Get it with sugar then,” Ichigo raised his eyebrows and unscrewed the lid to check for backwash, and when he didn’t see any floaties or bubbles, he took another sip, swallowing. “I like it black.”

Renji wrinkled his nose, hands shoved his pockets, looking for all the world like he’d learned his lesson. “I’m not lettin’ you kiss me until we eat somethin’,” he muttered, and Ichigo indignantly glared, punching him on the arm.

“Who said I was gonna’ kiss you anyways?!”

As they walked, Renji talked about his day, and they held hands for a bit. It was chilly today. Ichigo wrapped his thin scarf around his neck better and eyed Renji’s fluffy double-sided one. “Where’d you get that scarf?” he finally asked enviously, his cheeks and nose numb and apple red.

“Ahh, this lady gave it to me for raking her leaves.”

“You know,” Ichigo narrowed his eyes skeptically, “I think the reason you're behind on your schoolwork is because you’re always doing shit for people.”

Renji frowned. “It’s not shit,” he said flatly.

Ichigo didn’t say anything, but privately agreed. He squeezed Renji’s gloved hand and was pleased when his grip automatically responded in kind. “What, so you’re saying you have time to hang out tomorrow?” Ichigo teased, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“No,” Renji conceded, sticking his lip out. “I have to wear a wet T-shirt for a fundraiser.”

Ichigo snorted. “Nice. Want me ta’ come?”

“No,” he refused flat-out, with no other explanation. Ichigo began to smirk, prodding him a bit more.

“Why?” he taunted, “‘Cause it’ll be super cold? You don’t want me to see when your nipples are hard?” He gave a laugh, then said decidedly, “I’m going.”

“No!” Renji forbid loudly with a certain embarrassment to his voice, “I don’t want you there, so stay at home!”

Laughing at Renji’s sudden inexplicable modesty, Ichigo just shook his head. “Idiot. And here I was thinking we could hang after. Y’know,” he needled, “me, and you in your wet T-shirt.”

Renji stared at him breathlessly, expression pinched, and then gasped roughly, “You’re a goddamn menace.”

He and Renji went out for burgers and shakes and snacked together for a time, chatting lightly, until Renji raised an unexpected topic.

“So I was thinking…” He held Ichigo’s hand in his and rubbed his thumb over Ichigo’s knuckles. They both had their elbows rudely on the table as they ate, facing each other in the booth. Renji gave a soft and quiet smile, eyes sparkling with mischief and curiosity. Ichigo hummed his acknowledgement and Renji went on. “… Maybe we can get away for the weekend,” he suggested, “Get a hotel room, y’know, see some tourist sites, have dinner by the water.” Raising his eyebrows with a smile, he said lowly, “Get lovey in a king-size bed maybe?”

“Pfft,” Ichigo snorted, chewing, for once not feeling flustered in the slightest. “That sounds like a lot of sap,” he noted, choosing not to mention that a weekend vacay was usually something couples who’d been together for a long time did. He got where Renji was coming from though. They haven’t had much time alone together; sure they went on dates a lot, but there were always other people in the general vicinity. Even in the dorms, there was a certain lack of privacy.

“I’m a goddamn sucker for some romance,” Renji hummed huskily, rubbing Ichigo’s hand a bit more in his, and Ichigo smiled back a little. He shrugged easily then and, drawing back, said, “Or you know, if it’s too fast…”

“Nah, I’m ready to give it a try,” Ichigo informed, surprising even himself, then took another bite of his cheeseburger. “Just make sure the bed’s not a heart,” he said through a full mouth with a warning glare.

“Pff’, _whaaa?”_ Renji joked, grinning and leaning in with a mock incredulity, “You don’t wanna’ romp on a heart-bed?”

_“ No.”_

Renji grinned and lifted Ichigo’s knuckles to his mouth for a quick peck, then rested their hands back on the table and squeezed them together. “Don’t worry,” he said with a sort of determined excitement, “I’ll fix everything perfect.”

Ichigo raised a brow and drank his milkshake through a straw. “You’re taking care of everything? Why am I not reassured.”

Renji didn’t rise to the teasing, instead smirking. “Nothin’ but the best for you, Ichiban.” With a breath, he released his hand and rubbed his own together in anticipation. “Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about the _fun_ shit,” he grinned widely. “We’re gonna’ spend every day at the beach!” With an excited sigh, he said with a smile, “I’ve always wanted ta’ go to the ocean.”

Ichigo hummed in consideration, drinking his drink and smiling at Renji’s excitement, wondering how long he’d been planning this trip. “Let’s climb the mountain.”

“Shit, yeah,” Renji pointed at him as if he hadn’t thought of that, god, how could he have forgotten, he had to write that down! “Great idea.”

After they’d eaten all they wanted, they went to the roller rink for a couple hours, and then kissed for a long time in Ichigo’s car over the console – which was a step up from what they usually did. It was getting pretty intense actually.

Eventually, Renji pulled back, a string of saliva connecting their warm lips, and he said in a raspy voice, “Drive,” and Ichigo scrambled to put the car in gear and get them back to campus.

When they’d finally made it to Renji’s dorm, the fires of passion had cooled somewhat, but Renji still sounded quite urgent and strained when they walked in the door and he immediately called, “Yo Shuuhei, get out.”

Hisagi, who’d been working at his desk, looked up, then grumbled, “You piece a’ shit,” taking his headphones off and throwing them to the ground. He picked up his laptop and left to the student lounge, and Renji dragged Ichigo past by the wrist.

Ichigo began to get nervous - not scared, but still nervous - when things started moving forward. Once Shuuhei was gone, Renji took him to his room, shutting them in. Shit, he was in Renji’s bedroom. It felt like during the previous weeks they'd been at a very easy and relaxed two and had suddenly jumped to a ten immediately. Ichigo's hands shook. . . Were they about to do it?

Renji flashed him a smile through the dark and began kissing him again, leading him backwards through the room and then carefully, without breaking their lips, helped Ichigo ease down onto his bed – his _bed._ Ichigo broke back with a hungry gasp, chest heaving, to marvel and shiver at how far he’d pushed the boundaries. He was in Renji’s bed; it was a low-rise, and well slept in, the blankets already askew.

Ichigo was getting pretty excited from this – it was the furthest they’d ever gone by a long shot. Renji leaned forward and joined their mouths again, pressing into him until he had to cling onto Renji to keep from flopping backwards, kissing back as much as he could. Renji was a very skilled kisser, and didn't break for air until Ichigo felt dizzy and tingly all over. They separated and breathed heavily, gusts of warm air puffing over their wet lips. Ichigo held onto Renji's back with a sense of numbed panic - shit, what is he doing, is he actually doing this? Renji was on top of him, heavy and imposing, and was nosing against his jaw and ear.

“Can I kiss you here?” he rasped, rubbing his cheek against Ichigo’s neck, his hot mouth fogging the skin.

“Yeah,” he somehow gasped, and held his breath as Renji attached his mouth under his jaw, kissing him on the neck nuzzling his face into the small space with these small grunts and noises of relish, holding him and getting enthusiastic in sucking and kissing at the skin, even biting at a bit of Ichigo’s hair and his earlobe.

All of Ichigo’s hair stood up, and a choked moan escaped as he brought a hand to the back of Renji’s head. Renji groaned into his neck and bit at the tendon there that jumped out as Ichigo let his head fall back and strained with the effort of holding back his voice. His hands began to fiddle with the edge of Ichigo’s shirt, his thumbs rubbing firmly against the flesh of his stomach.

“’Zis okay?” he asked wetly, his mouth still mostly sealed to Ichigo’s neck as he slowly slipped his hands onto the skin of Ichigo’s midriff.

“U-huh,” Ichigo gasped, lying still as Renji’s hands felt up under his shirt against his chest, his back, his stomach. He eased back onto his elbows, and Renji eagerly surged forward atop him, latching back onto his neck.

Ichigo reflexively brought his shoulder up at the sudden tickling sensation, pinching Renji’s head and causing him to snort a laugh. He smiled a bit in reply, the kind of wobbly smile when one is weak in the knees.

Ichigo gripped Renji’s arms and grabbed his hair as Renji’s hands and mouth explored him. Gasping, he raked Renji’s back with his nails, and Renji immediately seized him hard and growled in his ear, “I love that,” and bore over him with his obnoxious muscles and superior weight and size, pressing him into his chest, and ohhh, god, the sound of him is so goddamn hot, his deep masculine voice rolling through his chest like smoke off a fire, like the growl of a tiger, the rush of a bullet train into the shuttle.

Renji seized his face in his hands and kissed him firmly with a heady groan that eased off into a hum. Ichigo trembled and kissed back; he was very excited. Fuck, he was hard, it had happened so easily. He let out a small moan as their lips parted, and Renji rasped out a heady, “Fuck.”

He drew back and knelt on the floor, running his hands on Ichigo’s long legs for a few moments. Ichigo sat up to watch him, eyes flicking shyly and uncertainly towards his face. He knew Renji could see that he was aroused, but he wasn’t saying anything about it, so he figured maybe he needed an invitation. Without thinking about it long enough that he could chicken out of it, with the air of someone who didn’t know what they were doing or what would happen, Ichigo hesitantly opened his legs up a few inches, which caused Renji some pleased surprise.

He slowly moved a hand in and rubbed a thumb along the seam of his hip. Ichigo let out a shaky breath, and Renji smirked and laughed at his nervousness, as if he thought it were cute. Ichigo scowled. Renji leaned forward to kiss at his ear. “Too much excitement?” he teased, not entirely without sincerity, “Wanna’ call it?”

Ichigo shoved him back by the forearm just enough to glare into his eyes and mutter petulantly, “Who’s too excited, I’m not the one grinning like a dope.”

“Oh no?”

“No.” He found he was smiling in spite of himself, which had Renji laughing delightedly. Ichigo put his arms on Renji’s neck and pulled him back in for a kiss to shut him up, and kissing was surprisingly hard with two smiling mouths. Renji sighed into it and slowly lay his torso against Ichigo’s and pressed their pelvises together, their hard cocks pressing together and creating a tight friction. Ichigo froze up beneath him, incredibly tense. He's never been touched like this, not ever. 

Renji stayed there for a moment, mouth just slightly separated from Ichigo’s, breathing into his. He did a slow grind against him and Ichigo exhaled shakily. Renji hummed a low growl and held Ichigo still, then did a few mock thrusts, hard, and in quick succession, as if to show Ichigo how he’ll fuck him. Ichigo startled badly, as everything took a frightening lurch, like the sensation of your stomach dropping out at the top of a roller coaster or when you jolt awake suddenly or miss a stair and almost trip – it was that small but terrifying moment when the inertia ended and you felt like you were falling, but that horrible lurch of Renji’s body thrusting harshly against him was accompanied by euphoric pleasure, surging not just through his erection, but his back, his fingertips, his scalp.

He had goosebumps and the shakes, he felt like he was going to throw up, to cum, to cry. It had him clinging onto Renji and gasping. Fuck.

Fuck – it was great.

“Y’alright?” Renji mumbled when Ichigo went rigid, eyes dilated and spooked, “Can I keep going?”

Ichigo nodded breathlessly and half in an effort to cling onto Renji for comfort and half to keep that euphoria going, he locked his legs around Renji and pressed his hips up against him with a tight curl of his back. “Ahh, there’s those killer legs,” Renji wheezed, trying to lift off of him, but Ichigo squeezed him tighter and pulled on him, arms wrapping around his neck and locking Renji’s chest to his, causing Renji to slam back down and knock the wind out of him. Renji’s breath escaped in a harsh puff, and he grinned widely, eyes sparkling with excitement and surprise. “Feisty,” he whispered.

“You talk way too much,” Ichigo growled breathlessly, and for the first time, he understood a bit of what Grimmjow meant.

Renji hummed a laugh and fell into his arms. They dry-humped and made out for a while until Ichigo at last chilled out a little bit. Eventually they were unable to stay focused enough to keep the serious lusty tone going. Ichigo didn’t know when it happened, but at some point, making out turned into wrestling and rolling around laughing, and only  _sometimes_ kissing and grinding each other.

“I’m winning,” Renji mumbled, sucking and biting at Ichigo’s lower lip.

Ichigo broke away with a gasp, and protested, “Kissing is not a contest!”

“Loser says what?” Ichigo sputtered a bit and knocked him over, sending Renji into a fit of laughter. They wrestled a little, and eventually Ichigo got on Renji’s back and sat on him, pleased when Renji squirmed, but didn’t buck him off, eventually turning his head with difficulty against the bed, panting and peeking up at Ichigo.

“Who’s laughing now?” he teased smugly. Renji grunted at that and threw him off, getting on him when Ichigo’s wild scramble wasn’t enough to grant him escape. Holding him trapped, Renji pulled Ichigo’s shirt up under his armpits and blew a raspberry on his chest, tickling his sides lightly.

Ichigo thrashed around, trying not to laugh and failing, only serving to choke himself. Renji started to laugh at his chipmunk-cheeked attempts at holding back his laughs. “Just admit it,” Renji demanded with a cocky superior tone that broke back into giggles every few words. “Call me the strongest man an’ I’ll let you go.”

“Never,” Ichigo grit out, his voice a cracked hiss under Renji’s considerable weight.

“Admit iiiiit,” Renji gloated in his ear, shoving his head into the bed to smother him for a few seconds, then releasing him and sitting on his lower back so he was free to gasp and pant for breath. “Say it Ichigo. Admit I’m the winner and I’ll let you go.”

“I don’t have to- I don’t have to admit anything ta’ you,” Ichigo struggled, heaving for air and scowling.

“Aww, did you just admit you don’t want me to let you go?” Renji teased, kissing on him. Ichigo flailed around and pushed him back.

“Big dumb monkey-brain!” he shouted, “I said I won’t admit anything!”

“Sore loser,” Renji noted, nodding with an insufferable grin. Ichigo scowled heavily and crossed his arms, and Renji just laughed in his chest a bit more. “Don’t worry,” he cooed, trying to land a kiss on Ichigo’s nose. “Even a loser like you is still Ichiban to me.”

Ichigo took pity on him then and burst into laughter, so out of air that he couldn't make a laughing noise anymore. “Pff’, that’s so corny.” Renji hummed lowly and grinned, and Ichigo let him roll them over, kissing him some more.

This time Ichigo’s legs opened up to welcome Renji in eagerly, and Renji happily lay atop him, rolling his hips onto Ichigo’s firmly. After they’d rocked against each other for a little while, Ichigo began petting Renji’s hair, and Renji sighed, shuddering heavily and kissing him with fervor.

“Ahh Ichigo,” he groaned, pressing his hips against him some more, insistently, and Ichigo bit at his lip and grit his teeth at Renji, breaking into a grin when Renji laughed a bit and pressed their noses and foreheads together, playfully butting against his head. “Ah-hah,” he laughed breathlessly, his voice warm and adoring, “Heh’. I’m crazy for you, Ichigo.”

Ichigo grinned wider, eyes squeezing almost shut with the force of it, his nose wrinkling with a breathless laugh.

Renji’s expression dropped quite suddenly, and this strangled noise clawed its way out of his throat, and he surged forward to kiss Ichigo, hard and sloppy, his lips pressing so tight and rough against Ichigo’s that Ichigo grunted, the blood rushing out of his face from the amount of pressure coming from both the bed and Renji bearing down on him. His eyelids fluttered shut and his mouth went slack against Renji’s as he kissed the orange off of him, and then his lips lolled uselessly when Renji suddenly retreated and slid his hands greedily down Ichigo’s chest to his thighs again.

He dropped to his knees and gripped Ichigo’s legs again, and as Ichigo forced himself to a sitting position, he ran his hands against Renji’s face and lips. Renji grinned excitedly, and Ichigo rubbed his thumb against his cheek, smiling back.

Renji moved his hand to the crotch of Ichigo’s pants, just teasing the edges of his erection with his touch. Ichigo swallowed, but didn’t say anything, still breathing heavily. “This fine?” Renji whispered, and Ichigo nodded, gulping. Shit, Renji's going to touch him. He's going to let Renji touch him there. 

Renji smiled a bit reassuringly, laying his warm hand over the outline of Ichigo’s erection. Even though he’d had every warning that it was coming, both visual input and prior preparatory knowledge, Ichigo still startled, and his penis jolted under Renji’s hand, which immediately began massaging in a firm rolling wave motion.

Gasping and sweating, Ichigo eased back on his elbows, eyes hooded and face heating as he watched Renji fondle him. Oh... It felt really nice. Light pants would escape his mouth, despite him viciously biting his lip, every time Renji gripped the base of his cock through the thick denim of his jeans and then dragged his other hand along the length, applying firm pressure.

Eventually, Renji licked his lips and asked raspily, “Can I take these off?” And Ichigo couldn't believe himself, but he nodded yes again to let Renji take off his clothes.  

He swallowed hard when Renji leaned forward to kiss at his chest and belly while he slowly unzipped his jeans. 

Ichigo’s knees involuntarily tried to close, and he leaned back a little more, partly covering his face and eye with one hand, the other one tightly clenched in a fist near his hip. Renji wiggled his jeans down and then snuck a single finger into the waistband of Ichigo’s underwear and tugged it up. Ichigo bit at his cheek viciously, his throat closing up as he felt very shy suddenly. He was so embarrassed he can barely make himself watch.

Renji was leaning up slightly with the look of a child trying to see over a tall counter to get a peek of what was on the other side, and when he saw Ichigo’s dick, he let out an honest-to-god whine. “Shit, you’re so cute,” he gushed, face scrunched.

Ichigo blushed to the point where he felt light-headed. “Who’s cute,” he exhaled frustratedly, because that word was usually used to describe something small and entirely unintimidating, and you know, Ichigo had his ego to worry about here.

Renji snickered a bit, and still smiling, pulled up the elastic a bit more, peeking down inside and giving an appreciative hum. Ichigo clenched his fist tighter, but let Renji tug down his boxers and jeans more, enough that his dick was out and laying against his stomach. His racing heart rate skyrocketed when Renji took a better look at him and paused, his smile dropping and his eyebrows pushing together.

His hands stalled, still gripping Ichigo’s underwear as he stared in bewilderment. “It’s orange,” he said rather dazedly.

“Oh my fucking god, Renji, seriously?” Ichigo snapped, sitting up and scowling down at Renji, who knelt between his legs and just stared. Mortified and upset, Ichigo felt like pulling his shirt over his head to hide. Renji had never made any strawberry jokes, which had won him some major points, and because of that, up until now, Ichigo had assumed that Renji had known he didn’t bleach his hair. Of course it would be orange and not black!

“No, I dunno’ why I thought…” Renji trailed off, eyes boggling and head tilting in fascination, and Ichigo wanted to die. “I just didn’t expect it to be _that_ orange,” he muttered. “Wow. Like a little brushfire.” He rubbed his thumb through it.

Ichigo stuck his lip out and averted his eyes, but let Renji touch his hairs and pet through them. “Yeah well,” he mumbled, “I already know your pubes look like someone stabbed you in the dick.”

“Ha-ha,” Renji fake laughed, clearly unamused. “Aren’t you the smart guy.”

“Glad we both agree.”

“Aw, shut up, Fanta pants,” Renji teased with a smirk, to which Ichigo shot up straight.

“Peppermint dick!” he retorted.

Renji was so caught off guard, that he actually wheezed at that and laughed, shaking his head and kissing Ichigo. Ichigo’s mouth went slack as Renji touched him, lightly fondling him and cupping his hand around his cock and balls, gently and testingly running his grip around them and squeezing.

At the tremulous breath Ichigo released, along with the nervous wiping of his forehead, Renji gave a little laugh. “You wanna’ call it?” he offered, his motions slowing. “I know we made plans for your first time,” he said a bit more seriously, his hand moving away, “but Ichigo, if you just wanna’ get to know each other for a year, longer, then that’s cool.” Gazing into Ichigo’s face with a soft and gentle expression, he murmured, “We haven’t really talked about it before, but we can take things slow.”

Although Ichigo very much appreciated such thoughtfulness, the timing was shit, and because of that he gave Renji an exasperated glare and huffed, “Why are you saying this now that I’ve got a raging hard-on?" Tightlipped and red-faced, he grit out, "I'm dying of shame right now, you don't even know."

"Why though?"

"I let you see me naked!" 

"You're not  _very_ naked though."

"So?! My dick's out!"

"Ugh, whatever. I'm just saying. We can wait. You don't have to feel like, you know... you have to... do anything." Renji’s brow scrunched frustratedly. “I just really like you, an’ I don’t wanna’-”

Ichigo waved his hands quickly, knowing where this was going. “Okay, okay, enough.”

“I just wanna’ hear you’re sure.” Renji rolled a shoulder and tentatively smiled, hooding his eyes and laying on the huskiness to his voice real thick. “Y’know, before I show you the time of your life with my mad love.” Ichigo narrowed his eyes.

“You’re pretty confident, aren’t you.”

“Damn straight.” Renji grinned.

Ichigo, considering, played with a string on Renji’s blanket so that he’d have an excuse, no matter how weak, to avoid Renji’s gaze. “Well,” he mumbled, flicking his eyes up shyly and then fiercely blushed, staring at his lap. “I’m ready to try, so…” He cleared his throat, and feeling slightly ridiculous, offered uncertainly, “If you want me, I guess, go ahead.”

Renji’s exhaled in a heavy burst, breathing, “Aw baby,” expression slack.

He got on the bed near Ichigo and pulled him onto his lap, holding him to his body and kissing on his neck. Renji sat loosely cross-legged while Ichigo rested on Renji's ankles and let his legs hook over Renji’s hips, his feet somewhere on the bed behind Renji. In his enthusiasm and nervousness, Ichigo had trouble getting his shirt off when Renji took his own off and pulled at Ichigo’s. The blood went to his head way too fast at the sight of Renji's bulging chest laid bare like that, rippling with tattoos. He'd never seen him up close with his shirt off before, god, look at him.

Ichigo rested his brow against Renji’s bare shoulder and panted as Renji jerked them off together. He peeled his head off a few times just enough to glance down and get a glimpse, but soon would hiss and gasp and shove his face back against his neck, clinging onto Renji cluelessly, body locked at each joint by pleasure.

He came pretty fast – in fact, _embarrassingly_ fast.

Picking his head up and panting, he hung his head and immediately reddened at the sight of his cum on Renji’s tattooed belly, humiliated. He usually didn’t care what other people thought about him almost one hundred percent of the time, but he still had a healthy amount of human shame, and that had been a minute forty-five seconds tops. He's a disgrace.

“Shit, I-” he stuttered, desperately avoiding looking at Renji. “Sorry,” he blurted, “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Renji, not listening to his pathetic attempts at apology, lurched up and took a grip under each of Ichigo’s thighs and rolled them forward, landing them in the blankets heavily. He held himself above Ichigo on his elbows, but leaned his head down to kiss him quiet. Ichigo let out a shaky sigh and kissed back, lying frozen at the feeling of Renji’s hot erection pressed on his bare stomach. Shit, what was he going to do to him?

Kissing him warmly, tongue lazily tracing at his lips and teeth, Renji began touching himself, stroking his own cock with even calm pulls. Legs still carelessly thrown around Renji’s hips, Ichigo squeezed his sides with his knees and bravely let his hand travel down between them. Renji’s hand slowed when Ichigo clumsily felt around, and then he let his fingers cover Ichigo’s, guiding them.

Renji broke their liplock and panted, and Ichigo smiled.

Ichigo grinned and reveled in the weak quick beat of his heart, scared and thrilled and excited, matched by the thundering level pace of Renji’s. This was fun, he decided. This was a lot of fun. He’d been worried before that he might not like it, that he might disappoint or get too freaked out, but he decided he liked it.

Being held in Renji's arms, their foreheads brushing together, Ichigo had never felt better or righter or happier about anything.

 . . .

_I reached out, trying to love, but I feel nothing. Oh, my heart is numb. But with you, I feel again. Yeah with you, I can feel again._


	18. Ichigo's First Time

_Give me all the peace and joy in your mind._

 

_. . ._

 

As expected, Grimmjow was _pissed_ when he heard Ichigo’s weekend plans.

He went through all the normal motions his rages conformed to. At first, he was really mad and loud, and tore their room up and wrecked some shit. After their initial screaming match and throw down was over and they separated to lick their wounds, Grimmjow moved on to the eerily silent stage in which he wouldn’t talk to Ichigo and either glared at him constantly or just plain ignored the fact that he even existed. Finally, when Ichigo didn’t respond to either tactic – yelling and not yelling – Grimmjow decided that no, yeah, he _did_ care that Ichigo existed, and regretted ignoring him, because Ichigo just expertly ignored him right back, and if there was one thing Grimmjow couldn’t stand, it was not being the center of attention.

So once he’d accepted that throwing a fit wouldn’t get him what he wanted, he progressed to the last stage, and it was by far the worst. It was the really annoying and overbearing one. Grimmjow was still really ticked and still really didn’t like that he’d lost this argument, which was made plain due to his extremely cranky attitude, but he didn’t break anything else or try to throttle Ichigo or pretend to ignore him anymore. Instead, he did the polar opposite: he followed him around and grumpily tried to get back into his good graces by being _begrudgingly_ nicer – or Grimmjow’s version of nicer.

It made Ichigo suspicious, because it was likely that it was just a last-ditch attempt at manipulating him – since Grimmjow hated to admit defeat even after a loss. It was probably some sort of weird guilt-trip, but even Grimmjow wasn’t that petty.

Wait… no, never mind. Putting a bottom-limit on Grimmjow’s pettiness was just a dumb idea.

Anyway, stage three was that Grimmjow wanted attention, meaning he wouldn’t fucking leave Ichigo alone, and he pretty much just _breathed down his neck_ the whole week.

When Ichigo studied, Grimmjow watched him and pretended to play video games. When Ichigo slept, Grimmjow paced. When Ichigo packed, Grimmjow annoyed him. When Ichigo texted Renji, Grimmjow was purposefully loud.

Ichigo’s mostly just been trying to persevere, because he really didn’t know what Grimmjow’s problem was – he’ll have more fun this weekend without him there anyway, having the dorm all to himself. Ichigo told him so, but that just seemed to piss Grimmjow off more. Whatever, he probably just needed some quiet time, or maybe some stress release.

On Thursday, Ichigo let his sisters know that he was taking a trip with his boyfriend for a couple days, don’t worry about him, tell dad, et cetera. He thought they took it well, considering he hasn't mentioned Renji much before now.

Friday morning, Keigo wanted to hang out. Ichigo had already told him several times that he had shit to do, but he was still bugging him by the time he came out of his dorm building to load his shit into the car. Renji was there waiting outside with his own bags, and caught up with them wordlessly, listening to the exchange.

“I’m not hangin’ out with you tonight, dude,” Ichigo declined flatly for the billionth time, to which Keigo flailed dramatically.

“But it’s _opening night,”_ he stressed, and Ichigo felt for him, he really did, but he already had plans.

“No, I’m goin’ on a road trip. Drivin’ south to the ocean.” He unlocked his car and opened the trunk, rearranging his stuff to put his bag in there.

“What?!” Keigo screeched. “Without me!”

 _“You weren't invited,”_ Renji interjected, and Keigo quailed a bit, but when Ichigo just kept moving things around in the back, he gave another more timid attempt, crowding against Ichigo’s shoulder. Ichigo scowled at the volume near his ear, but wasn’t distracted from rearranging shit.

“It’s not too late for me to come! I can get my stuff!”

Renji glared at him, puffing himself up to look big and threatening. “No!”

“Maybe next time, man,” Ichigo hummed, making some room for Renji’s stuff next to his. “Sorry.”

He mildly noted the sudden absence of Keigo’s constant breaches of his personal space, but in conjunction with a few moments of silence and then a sudden small ‘eep!' Ichigo pulled his head out of the trunk in confusion, only to see that Keigo had scurried off without a goodbye. Frowning and opening his mouth to huff at Renji, he stalled once he pinpointed the actual reason for his spastic friend’s sudden retreat. Grimmjow had dropped by, and was standing a few parking spaces away.

Renji started packing his stuff into Ichigo’s car after watching Keigo go and giving Grimmjow a glance. He nudged Ichigo aside with a prod to the thigh from the sole of his foot when he stood in the way for too long. Ichigo took a couple steps away, tilting his head at Grimmjow, who finally announced himself. Sometimes when he was in a snit, he’d forgo his usual preference of ambushing his target, and would wait to be noticed and given the full attention he deserved. So he was still upset then.

“Hey! You forgot this.” He held out a cup to Ichigo, not approaching.

Ichigo recognized it, of course. It was his thermos, the one with the orange-slices and strawberries on it, the one Grimmjow had gotten him as a gag gift ages ago. Shit, he’d filled it up with a breakfast-shake earlier and then forgotten it on the counter, and Grimmjow had bothered to stop whatever he’d been doing and bring it out here to him: a peace offering of sorts.

It said enough that Grimmjow was even awake at this time. He never got up before ten on a weekday, and it was like eight thirty right now. He must’ve been pretending to sleep earlier when Ichigo had been getting ready to leave, and then followed him out here.

Ichigo curled his toes and glanced around, feeling vaguely guilty.

… He’s still not staying.

“Thanks,” he muttered, walking up to Grimmjow when the stubborn-ass just kept holding it out, his other hand shoved in his jeans. Ichigo took the thermos and unscrewed the lid, half to appease Grimmjow by showing him he _was_ in fact going to drink it and was grateful for his effort, and half to check that Grimmjow hadn’t put anything gross in there as revenge.

Ichigo took a gulp of his chocolate banana shake and then licked his lips. Grimmjow’s eyes weren’t trained on him anymore, instead fixed in a perpetual glare on Renji, who by now had finished packing and was leaning against the car with one leg propped up and his arms casually crossed. He returned Grimmjow’s open hostility with a steady but passive look.

Glancing between the two of them, Ichigo was beginning to think that one of the reasons Grimmjow disliked Renji so much was because Renji wasn’t intimidated by him. It was the same reason Grimmjow had been so irritated by Ichigo initially, because he’d had this ‘look’ in his eyes that said he wasn’t _afraid,_ that he didn’t register Grimmjow as a threat.

What was worse was that the nature of the threat Renji presented in this situation seemed to be a bit ambiguous – because what _territory_ was Renji encroaching on exactly? Ichigo suppressed an eyeroll and tried not to feel like a meaty bone being tugged between two ferocious animals.

… _Yeah_ _,_ there was a reason Grimmjow got pissy if Ichigo brought people to the dorm or if he hung out with others, there was a reason he hated Ichigo’s friends, there was a reason he got miserable if Ichigo was gone for a few days too long over holiday break visiting his family. Grimmjow hated it when he was there, but he hated it when he _wasn’t_ there even more – because the guy can’t live with himself. It was why he was in a dorm even though he had a fucking _penthouse._ Sometimes Ichigo wondered whether he just couldn’t stand the quiet of being alone, or the fact that there was no one to distract him. Point was, he couldn’t be alone anywhere, even if the alternative was absolute shit company like his gang.

Well, he’ll have to deal for a weekend. It’d probably do him good, maybe cool him off to spend a few days at some crazy sex parties doing shots and eating body sushi and snorting cocaine off a stripper’s back, or whatever the fuck else Grimmjow did when he wasn’t around Ichigo.

He’d be fine. How nuts could he go in three days?... Besides, Ichigo deserved this. He deserved to take a break with his boyfriend and chill for a while, just the two of them. He wasn’t going to stay here because his roommate needed a babysitter.

“Bye Grimm,” Ichigo finally prompted.

“Later,” Grimmjow answered, but made no move to walk away, planting his boots there as if by cement.

Huffing and rolling his eyes, Ichigo leaned forward and clapped Grimmjow on the shoulder, then turned and walked around to get in the driver’s side of his car. He sat down heavily in the seat and shut the door behind him, waiting for Renji, who hadn’t quit leaning on the side of the car.

“You some sort a’ sentry?” he heard Renji say to Grimmjow lowly, the two of them not having finished in their staring match, it seemed.

“I’m a tattler.” Ichigo turned in the driver’s seat, glaring out the windows at them.

“What’re you saying?” Renji muttered lowly, and Ichigo tried to see around him towards Grimmjow, who had his hands in his pockets and was giving Renji this sinister faux-calm look he always gave the people he was planning to do something horrible to.

 

“Figure it out.”

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, but didn’t think much of it. Grimmjow finally walked off, and Renji got in the car with a long frustrated breath through his nose, but didn’t say anything. Ichigo put the car in reverse, and then pulled out, throwing an arm back over his seat to look behind him.

Renji has never asked him why he hung out with Grimmjow or why he put up with him, and he’s never expressed any jealousy over their strange relationship or asked him to explain it, which Ichigo was grateful for. Even now, Renji merely got comfortable in his seat, tossed his jacket off, and took Ichigo’s hand in his over the seat-divider, rubbing it with his thumb as he puzzled over the map, turning it this way and that – he didn’t say a thing about what had just occurred.

Ichigo sighed as he drove slowly through the campus lot. It was complicated. Grimmjow was an asshole to some degree like ninety-five percent of the time, but sometimes Ichigo could just see on his face that he didn’t even know why he does the things he does, why he was so angry all the time, why he hated everybody, why he wrecked things. Ichigo thought maybe he was lonely, that he acted like he didn’t need anybody and that he was too good for everyone because deep down, Grimmjow really fucking hated himself.

Every time Ichigo felt like he couldn’t take any more of his destructive behavior, his bullshit, his psychotic breaks, and he wondered why he kept putting up with it, he just thought about that: Grimmjow hated himself.

Ichigo grimaced and plopped his thermos down in the cupholder . . . He’d spend some time with him once he got back, and he wouldn’t even complain about it much.

What are friends for.

. . .

 

Renji was in charge of the map. Turned out, he had poor spatial skills, so soon Ichigo had to make him put the stupid paper map away and use his phone navigation, because they would’ve been driving all night otherwise with all those wrong turns. Besides, Renji kept getting distracted looking out the window. He liked driving with the windows all down and his arm outside, and was busy ogling everything with the map trapped under his leg.

After spending a couple hours on the freeway, Renji checking their progress on his phone from time to time, ponytail whipping around wildly, they got off and enjoyed the beautiful scenery of the coastal town. They arrived at about noon, checked into their hotel with minimal trouble, as Renji had already reserved a room, and then after ditching their stuff on the floor, they headed back out to climb the mountain.

As they climbed the paved steps through the sun-dappled forest, chatting, Renji frequently veered off the stairs into the trees in search of a better view. He seemed ecstatic just to be there. They only made it about halfway before getting wobbly legs, and after stopping to rest, they headed back down and wandered through the park.

Grabbing their cooler out of Ichigo’s car, they cooked some burgers on a grill near some campsites and looked at the sunset, sitting on the picnic tables. Really, the whole day had been their typical date – nothing overly romantic, at least not in the serious sense of going out for an expensive dinner. Renji always took him places like this, for adventurous fun, exploring, or activities, and they usually just snacked.

Tonight was very different, however, as Renji’s hand in his on the drive back told him. Sure enough, once night had fallen and they were exhausted from the day, they went back to the hotel and got frisky.

They didn’t really beat about the bush, since they both knew what they were really here for, what they were going to do. They’d planned this entire trip because it was their first time together, and Ichigo had known it was coming. He’d kept it in check all day, but once things started moving forward, now that they were alone there together next to the bed, he began to get a bit nervous. He was going to lose his virginity tonight.

They’ve done things together before, of course. Not much, but they’re not completely new to each other. Even so, when they separated to undress, Ichigo’s hands shook badly as he took his clothes off.

Renji had kept the lights on and had laid down a towel on the bed, which Ichigo assumed was where he was supposed to lay while they… did it.

He held his hands over his lap modestly and sat on his legs across from Renji, who was lounging next to him comfortably and wriggling out of the last of his own clothing, clearly thinking nothing of lying exposed. Intimidated, Ichigo stared down at his knees and away from the large expanse of bare skin. Renji shot his briefs across the room like a rubber band, clearly wanting a laugh out of him, but Ichigo just swallowed hard, shoulders hunching in embarrassment as Renji’s eyes crawled over him. He didn't really have body issues or anything, but he’d never been completely naked like this in front of somebody, except in a locker room or at the doctor’s.

Silence had fallen between them for a time, and Renji reached out a hand, gently running some curious fingers against Ichigo’s curled legs, and Ichigo could feel his eyes on his face, but avoided his gaze.

"You nervous?" Renji murmured, tracing a fingertip against his knee, his thigh. Ichigo bit his tongue, tension tightening the line of his shoulders even further.

"Yeah, some," he admitted.

Probably not wanting to spook him, Renji didn't approach just yet, laying on his side some distance away, reaching his arm out across the bed to brush light touches on Ichigo's bare arm, his back.

"Will you show yourself to me?"

Ichigo clenched his hands into fists over his lap. “Are you, uh…” He cleared his throat sharply when he felt his voice nearly crack. “You gonna’ turn the light off?”

“No, I wanna’ see what’m’ doin’,” Renji replied, and Ichigo froze up all over at the implication. He didn’t have time to dwell much, as Renji rolled towards him then and eased him onto his back on top of the towel, coaxing him to lie back. Ichigo did, letting his eyes rest on the ceiling, hands clasped on his lower stomach when Renji hovered over him and leaned in to kiss him.

"It's okay if you're nervous. Just let me take care of everything. I said I would." Renji pressed his mouth onto his, warm and firm.

Ichigo’s heart beat like crazy, his eyes slipping closed as he kissed back stiffly, and then as Renji held his face in his hands and slowly lowered his hot naked body onto his, resting heavily against him, it began to penetrate Ichigo’s fog of nervousness that Renji was _naked._  Somehow he hadn't really fully paid attention to that until now, and as the thought occurred to him, his body immediately reacted, heat rushing to his face.

Renji's bare skin pressing to his, all along the length of his body, Ichigo gasped into his mouth and froze up. With a sort of panic, his eyes flew open, and he wrapped his arms around Renji’s muscular back to hold him in place. Fuck, he had Renji butt-naked, on top of him. Ichigo's wide eyes shot to Renji's broad shoulders, his muscular back - he can't see much from where he is, pinned under him, but fuck, he was sexy.

 _'Is this real? Okay yes, this is fine.'_  The thought crossed his mind that he could slide his hands down and touch-  _'_ _Okay, okay! Don't pass out!'_

Ichigo knew he was probably as red as a tomato, but he squeezed Renji tight all the same, hands gripping onto his muscular back. They're  _naked naked naked, shit-_

Renji laughed against his mouth at the sudden heat between their stomachs. Ichigo gave a nervous smile when Renji pulled back a bit, then bit his lip as Renji kissed at his neck and chest. He tentatively brought his hands up to the back of Renji's head, holding it for a moment until Renji reached up on his own and prized the tie out of his hair. Ichigo sputtered a laugh and moved his hands through the loose mass, trying to get it out of his face without pulling on the tangles. Renji peeked an eye through his hair and grinned back at him, and Ichigo took him by both cheeks and guided him back to kiss him again.

Laughing more, Renji rolled on his side and dragged Ichigo with him, hiking Ichigo’s thigh over his hip and sliding his tongue into his mouth. He felt a little freaked out for a second, having his legs spread apart like that all of a sudden, but he went with it, beginning to feel excited at the hard bumping of their stomachs and hips together.

_'Fuck, our dicks are touching. What the fuck, our dicks are touching.'_

They kissed and touched for a while, and Ichigo’s nerves were soothed somewhat as Renji slowly worked him up into a fever of passion. Renji kept squeezing his body onto his, tightening his muscular arms around him and pressing their erections together. 

"What," Renji eventually breathed, separating them just enough to speak onto Ichigo's wet lips. "What's that look on your face?" 

Ichigo blew some of Renji's hair out of the way, causing him to squint his eyes shut for a second. "Your dick's on my dick."

". . . I... don't know what I'm supposed to say to that."

"Gaaaaaay."

Renji spat out a laugh, grabbing him and rolling wildly. "You're ridiculous."

"It's  _weird!_ " Ichigo crowed, letting Renji throw him around.

They laughed and messed around a little more, and Ichigo almost forgot about being nervous for a time. Eventually though, Renji rolled Ichigo onto his back, adjusted him on the towel, and flashed him a grin.

_'Guess it's time to start, then...'_

Ichigo watched as Renji moved back and then lay down between his legs, pushing them up. Throat going dry, Ichigo held his hands over himself, feeling suddenly modest. Renji kissed them, whispering onto his knuckles, “Why’re you hidin’ yourself?” dark brown eyes flicking up to his.

Ichigo flushed, and made himself remove them, just barely moving his fingers aside and stuttering as Renji licked along his cock, “I- I’m not.”

“Good,” Renji hummed, hiking Ichigo’s legs back and blowing on him, causing him to flinch in surprise and almost shove his hands right back where they were. Giving a low chuckle that vibrated through his chest, Renji kissed along his inner thighs and his rear, licking beneath his balls. A choked noise escaped Ichigo, who quickly threw his arms over his face, peering through them as Renji reached for the lube and unscrewed the cap.

He watched Renji wet his fingers after squeezing the bottom corner of the aluminum tube. When he felt Renji's touch, Ichigo covered his face completely, burning up all over.  _'Oh god, where is he touching. He's looking right at it, oh fuck. Don't think about it, just don't think about it-'_

 

Ichigo held his hands over his face for some time as Renji merely massaged him from the outside with his thumbs, only entering inside once he finally began to chill out a bit. As Renji begin working a slick finger in and out, Ichigo’s eyes went round, a nervous moan escaping. He squirmed, holding the sheets tight in his fist, the towel sticking to his back. Renji slowed, looking up to him questioningly and Ichigo bit both lips to be quiet. “Sorry,” he whispered, cheeks turning pink.

“How come?” Renji kissed him tenderly on the leg. Ichigo merely shook his head, declining to reply, his body straining.

Renji’s hands came away, and with a soft serious voice, he murmured, “There isn’t anyone, is there." Almost as if saying it to himself, he said it again, "You’ve never done anything.”

“I shoulda’ said,” Ichigo rasped, eyes lowered. “I know you’re-” Renji stopped him.

“Hey, c'mon.” When he made himself look up, Renji was giving a slow smile. “You’re worrying too much. I knew.” His warm hands ran along Ichigo’s thighs, up over his bare hips in a smooth motion. He held off on preparing Ichigo in favor of moving up next to him to hold him. “One look at you would tell me you’re innocent,” he whispered, head against Ichigo’s.

Scowling, Ichigo bit him. “Ack!” Renji yelped.

“Innocent this.” Ichigo grabbed Renji by the shoulders, shoved him back, and glared at him, holding his arms down by the wrists and sitting on his stomach. Renji gave a surprised expression for a moment, then laughed, coaxing Ichigo down to kiss him.

“Okay, okay, not innocent,” Renji mumbled amusedly onto Ichigo’s mouth, “Fierce.” Satisfied, Ichigo sat back, shoulders slumping as he sat atop Renji’s middle, legs on either side. “I’m just saying, we can just do what we did before an’ leave it there,” Renji suggested, wrapping a hand around Ichigo’s erection and giving it a few firm pulls. Ichigo exhaled slowly.

“No. I’m not backing out now.”

“It’s not backing out,” Renji said with a hard look to his eyes, motions stalling.

“Don’t make me beg, Renji,” Ichigo rasped, chest heaving. Renji licked his lips, body absolutely still for a moment.

“That won’t be necessary.”

The rest of the foreplay was a warm blur. Renji fingerfucked Ichigo for so long that he almost forgot that he'd ever worried that he would hate this. Shameless from arousal and being so strung out, Ichigo held his own legs against his chest and tried not to let saliva slip out of his mouth.

Grimmjow had warned him about pain some time back – more factually, he’d joked: _‘It will be sooo painful. He’ll fuck you with full force!’_ It didn’t hurt though; it hasn’t hurt once yet, actually, Renji was so careful. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt until they went all the way.

He understood the towel now, because there was a lot of lube, and sweat, and spit, and whatever else. Ichigo’s entire bottom and lower back were hot and soaked. Renji was stroking and kissing him with an almost severe concentration, closely attentive. He was also very insistent on status reports.

“Talk to me.” He popped his head up after having held Ichigo open with both thumbs and teased him with his tongue, now working three fingers inside him.

“Feels okay,” Ichigo whispered breathlessly once he could manage it.

After a while, Ichigo began to pant, pulling at his penis a bit. It was difficult to maintain an erection at the same time this other feeling built in his body. Shit, this was a lot of work. He was sweating blood, and he was just lying here!

“You comfy?” Renji asked when Ichigo didn’t say anything for a time. Ichigo nodded weakly.

“Yeah.” He swallowed when his voice cracked. “Yeah.”

“Nice an’ relaxed?”

Ichigo panted for a few seconds, and then said on a few breaths, “Well, your voice is getting kind of annoying, but…” Renji let out a long ‘pssh’ of a laugh and then swatted him on the ass.

“I’ll show you annoying.” He sat up and kissed him on the belly. Renji stretched and pushed his hair back out of his face. “Feel like you’re ready ta’ try?”

“Am I ready?” Ichigo asked him in a vapid manner, which was dumb, because Renji had just asked _him_ that and he was the one who was supposed to know, wasn't he. Breathlessly he decided, “Yeah, yeah, let’s try now.”

Renji opened a condom and put it on, then leaned over him to kiss him for a bit. Ichigo lay on his back, pretty much glued to the towel under him, but Renji peeled him off and positioned a couple couch pillows under his bum.

Renji approached between Ichigo’s legs and slid their bodies together. Ichigo closed his eyes at the feel of the top of Renji’s thighs against the underside of his, his hips and bottom fitting inside Renji’s broader ones with ease. Renji helped Ichigo’s shaky legs wrap around his waist and leaned over him, one arm braced next to Ichigo’s head. “Okay,” he breathed into Ichigo’s ear, kissing him soundly. Ichigo gripped both of Renji’s shoulders and took a few quick tight breaths, as if he was readying to jump off a cliff or lift a heavy weight.

Ichigo tensed up in fright as Renji leaned over him fully, one arm down between their sticky bodies to guide his cock inside. “I’m coming in, please,” Renji hummed politely, as if he were entering someone’s home, then pressed against him. Ichigo could feel the pinched rubber at the end of the condom rub on the relaxed and oiled flesh, the blunt tip pressing harder and harder, with a steadily building force.

Ichigo curled his toes and held his breath and clung to Renji hard all over, and tried to repeat the calming mantra of ‘relax, relax, relax’ that Renji had told him to remember earlier for this moment. The pressure against his asshole built to an almost unbearable amount, to the point where Ichigo was about to start slapping at Renji’s shoulder to tell him to stop, he wasn’t ready yet, try again in a minute- Suddenly, taking him by surprise, the head popped in all at once, accepted inside smoothly, and the pressure released.

Ichigo let out a slow breath to relax, trying to stop from gritting his teeth, still holding Renji hard all over. It was inside. The worst part was over. This was the full girth of Renji’s dick – it didn’t get any thicker than this. He was in the clear.

Resting his sweaty forehead against Renji’s bare shoulder, he tried to peer down between them to the place where Renji’s body disappeared, his hard tattooed stomach pressed against the juncture between his own legs. Renji hummed soothingly and stroked his scalp with one hand, kissing the other side of his head and face.

Renji moved forward in a measured movement, sliding in about halfway. Before, Ichigo had felt like Renji was going overboard, soaking him in lube, but now he got why, as Renji eased in very smoothly. It was almost a surprise when Renji bottomed out, his stomach and hips resting heavily against Ichigo’s bottom and legs.

With a long rumbling sigh, Renji laid atop him for a time and held him, and Ichigo just had to relax through the involuntary urge his muscles had to force Renji back out. That was the whole thing inside – he did it. He actually did it. A startled triumphant breath huffed out of his lungs, and he tried to smile. Yes! Take that!

… Actually, you know, that hadn’t been hard. It didn’t actually _hurt_ to have Renji inside him. The pressure was just very intense. And it was hot, and uncomfortable, and exciting, and- and-… and Grimmjow was a fucking _liar._

“How you doin’,” Renji murmured against his face, kissing his temple, his cheek, his sideburn, his ear. “You alright?... Ichigo.”

“Huh?” Ichigo squeaked.

Renji pulled back in concern, and Ichigo bit his lips and felt a wave of heat surge through his face and neck and upper chest as Renji’s motion moved the _thing_ inside him, plugging them together. Renji’s face creased in an attentive frown. “I can take it out.”

“No, it’s fine,” he panted, “I’m fine.” With a long sigh, he let his death grip on Renji relax, and with a more normal voice, noted, “Ya’ know? This isn’t so bad.”

Renji raised an eyebrow, still holding still, his hips resting against Ichigo’s, their chests together. “‘Not so bad’ is the worst feedback I’ve ever gotten.”

“No, just-” Ichigo tried to explain, giving a wry grin and letting his light brown eyes meet Renji’s dark ones. “Grimm had me convinced you’d go so hard I wouldn’t be able to sit for a week after, but y’know,” he said almost curiously, “that didn’t hurt _at all.”_

Renji had both arms on either side of him, leaning on his elbows and encircling Ichigo’s head with his forearms, hands in his hair. “That’s great, it’s not s’posed to,” Renji noted, matching his grin rather amusedly and wiggling his hips a little, which sent another flush of heat through Ichigo’s pink sweaty face. “But just so you know, you’re also not supposed ta’ talk about another man in bed,” he joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, don’t start with that,” Ichigo grumbled. He’d lived with Grimmjow too long for jealousy or possessiveness to be attractive in the least. It was just really annoying and childish at this point. “You’re _literally_ inside me.”

“Yeah,” Renji breathed huskily. He started rolling his hips against him, pulling out and then sliding back inside in a slow firm wave motion. Ichigo let out a slow breath through his pursed lips, closing his eyes.

He’d come here fully prepared for pain, he’d been ready for it to hurt, for it to hurt bad enough to be penetrated that he’d hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself by crying from pain. He’d been ready to not like it, to have to pretend through it and hope it would be over soon. The thing he had been prepared the least for was just how intimate it was. He’d been so nervous about it hurting that he hadn’t thought about the other aspects, but now that it was happening and there was no pain at all, it was alarming in a very unexpected way.

There was no hiding anything like this. Renji was inside him, feeling him, holding him, could see his every move, every breath, every twitch of his face. Ichigo felt like he’d been ripped open and exposed, left without any privacy, like he was sharing everything, right down to the very air he was passing from his mouth to Renji’s. Joined at the lips and holding each other, bodies sealed by sweat, heartbeats pulsing heavily down at the point their aroused heated flesh connected, Ichigo felt like Renji had crawled inside his soul.

Renji went slow for a while, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead on Ichigo’s and let his dark red-brown eyes gaze into his. Ichigo adjusted himself on his back, and Renji paused to let him move, smiling and leaning back down to kiss him once he got settled better. Sighing and feeling delusional from the feverish heat flushing through his head, Ichigo let his tongue run lazily against Renji’s, toes curling up with each firm bump of Renji’s hips against his as he pushed in right up to the base. The heavy press of his cock inside him on his prostate made the hair stand up all over Ichigo’s body, leaving him sweaty and chilled and twitching from what he was starting to classify as pleasure.

“You can go faster,” Ichigo mumbled almost shyly, hugging his hand around the back of Renji’s neck, huddling his head against Renji’s cheek.

“You’re the boss.” Renji straightened up, and Ichigo panted as his sweaty flesh cooled in the open air. He gasped and then hastily bit his lip as Renji slowly pulled out. After replenishing the lube with a few quick wet strokes to his cock and a loving swipe of his fingers against Ichigo’s asshole, Renji eagerly got back into position and penetrated him again, which drove a high-pitched whine-groan from Ichigo’s throat. Held up by his arms, Renji rolled his hips in slowly a few times, then experimentally gave a few quicker thrusts, bouncing Ichigo’s body with the blows. Ichigo pretty much froze at the bursts of pleasure accompanying them, eyes boggling, muscles locked. Renji grinned, straightened up, gathered Ichigo’s legs around his hips, and began thrusting against him in quick shallow motions, only drawing back about an inch or so each time before bumping his hips back against Ichigo’s ass.

Ichigo’s breath came in short puffs, jolting out of him every time Renji drove his body into his, slapping them together. Too turned on to feel very embarrassed, Ichigo wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled on it to try and return to hardness, which wasn’t difficult. At a heady growl from Renji, Ichigo closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, but didn’t stop. “Hmmm,” Renji groaned, thrusting his cock inside a bit more firmly, every movement controlled and perfectly timed. Ichigo touched himself and was embarrassed to hear his voice break with every slap of their bodies together, like he was riding in a bumpy car.

“You like it like this?” Renji assessed in a low husky tone. Ichigo nodded breathlessly.

“Uh-huh.”

Voice going warm and soft, Renji paused in his motions, leaning back down on Ichigo, falling on his elbows. “Here,” he murmured, “hold onta’ me,” his eyes burning into Ichigo’s brain.

Ichigo did, muscles shaking, and Renji melded their bodies together and rocked against him, and it wasn’t so different from that time on Renji’s bed. The feeling kept building and building, and Ichigo didn’t know how he was going to cum, because he thought he was going to explode, tip over the edge of something, but his cock wasn’t hard enough for him to orgasm.

Panting, Ichigo clung on, holding Renji’s damp hair, his sweaty-slick back contorting beneath his hands and arms. “Touch me, Ichigo,” Renji urged in a gasp after a few minutes of working their bodies together, both of them wet and feverish.

 _‘Shit, right,’_ Ichigo thought with a start, realizing he’d pretty much just been laying here and hanging on for this whole time.

He rubbed his hands on Renji’s back a little bit, letting them slide down to his hips. Swallowing and biting his lips, he felt his bottom and the way it flexed as Renji thrusted forward, only able to dig his fingers in when he pulled back and let the flesh relax. He watched as Renji licked his lips, and reached back to stroke his hair out of his face, off his shoulders so it wouldn’t keep sticking to his back. He tugged on it a little bit when his fingers snagged and Renji moved at the wrong time. “Shit, sorry,” Ichigo hissed when Renji froze for just a moment and shuddered.

Renji leaned down and breathed in his ear, “Claw up my back.” Ichigo had hardly a moment to nod before Renji rested the entirety of his weight against him and held them together, his body moving into his in heavy grinding thrusts – and for a moment, Ichigo's whole body just turned to jelly, completely helpless to the blinding and rough waves of pleasure, and he found that he didn’t even need to think, because he was digging his nails into Renji’s back and dragging them involuntarily, scrabbling to find a place to hold, finally gripping into his shoulders. The thrusts grew heavier, harder, and Renji’s breath hissed through his teeth in a heated growl.

For a first time, it ended up being pretty good, even though Ichigo mostly just lay there cluelessly and held onto Renji. It was _so_ far from perfect though, and there were a lot of things that Ichigo hadn’t been led to expect. Their bodies made weird, gross, and totally awkward sounds sometimes, and Ichigo made plenty of his own embarrassing noises besides, and they both got kind of tacky after a while, their skin sticking together just enough to be annoying. He didn’t really know what to do with his hands either; he tried not to be a dead fish, but he wasn’t confident in what he was doing at all. He also hadn’t realized how physically taxing this was, and he could definitely believe this was a form of cardio now. He wasn’t even doing much and he was still breathing heavily anyways. Despite all these points of awkwardness, Renji still seemed to be enjoying himself, so Ichigo tried to stop overthinking it.

Eventually, Ichigo began to get very tired, because he couldn’t seem to get himself there. The bone-numbing lava-hot tingling within him never seemed to progress past the plateau, and he just couldn’t focus on maintaining an erection well enough at the same time, and he was growing quite exhausted from the effort. Renji, seeing how sweaty-faced and winded he was, wrapped a lube-slick hand around Ichigo’s cock and worked him to hardness, letting him – _finally_ – cum on himself. Ichigo clung to Renji as he continued to thrust into him through his orgasm, and there came a sudden rush of emotion.

Renji let out a thick breath, adjusting above Ichigo, then grew a bit rougher as he neared the end. He bit the pillow near Ichigo’s face, his chest and stomach bumping against his sticky body as his back curled with each thrust inward. “Sorry, almost-” Renji gasped wetly, squeezing Ichigo tightly as he convulsed. Ichigo could tell when Renji was cumming, because he stopped pulling back, unable to thrust in the last few times. He merely sealed his hips against Ichigo’s, pressing and grinding against him, still trying to push in that little bit deeper, and he could hear that he was holding his breath.

A few long tense seconds passed, both of them locked against each other, every muscle tight and bursting with pleasure, before they relaxed, panting and trembling. Renji held Ichigo’s head to his face, his chest heaving with labored breaths, and after leaving a kiss-trail in his sweaty hair, carefully peeled them apart. When Renji pulled his cock out of him, Ichigo kind of just lay there for a second, panting, his body trembling and weak after the new experience.

Dazed, head stuffy from fever, his eyes roved the ceiling. He was vaguely aware of Renji moving throughout the room, the bed dipping when his weight came off of it. Ichigo felt his stomach being wiped with something cold and wet, but just continued to lay there, blinking rapidly, his mouth open to breathe more effectively. The light was off now.

Ichigo swallowed and came back to reality a bit when Renji eased onto the bed, pulling him onto the damp and naked length of his body, holding him, his chest heaving against Ichigo’s face, rocking it with each breath. After a few moments of embracing Ichigo’s limp body, tenderly holding his head close and stroking his hair, Renji quietly broke the silence. “You okay?” Ichigo nodded, his throat tight. He’s just had sex.

He tried to swallow… Is he about to cry? What, no. Why the fuck was he almost crying, nothing was even wrong.

Ichigo turned his face down towards Renji’s armpit so that Renji wouldn’t see just in case, and Renji silently assisted him and held his head there securely, stroking his sweaty hair with his thumb and resting his face against it. Ichigo closed his eyes and breathed, letting himself calm down as the adrenaline continued to filter out. His fingertips, lips, and asshole were throbbing, pulsing right along with his still struggling heart.

Eventually Renji released him and Ichigo was able to roll himself enough to rest next to him, lying on his stomach with his face half-squashed into the pillow as he gripped it in his arms.

. . . He wanted to be held. Screwing his eyes shut, Ichigo swallowed hard and breathed through his nose. He couldn’t comprehend why, but he felt inexplicably sad.

It hadn’t hurt or anything. Renji had been really considerate for all his cocky jerk personality would lead one to expect – he’d been very caring and attentive, knowing that it was his first time. Ichigo didn’t regret the experience or feel guilty or anything. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, so he just lay still and breathed, trying to relax.

Renji rolled towards him after a few quiet moments and glided a warm hand on his back and shoulder, his eyes searching his face concernedly. Ichigo shut his eyes and clenched his brow, tensing a bit, but didn’t move otherwise.

“You okay?” Renji murmured. “You’re really quiet.”

Ichigo pointed his face down, turning into the pillow as his throat grew tight again. Renji put his hand back on his shoulder, thumb rubbing almost coaxingly.

“Oi, Ichigo, don’t scare me.”

The bed creaked as Renji moved towards him, drawing up. Ichigo opened his eye and saw that Renji had combed his hair around his face. It always made him look so much softer.

“Hey,” Renji soothed, warm eyes meeting his. “You’re okay, huh? You’re okay.” Renji coaxed him up and took him into his arms, holding him a bit and kindly ignoring his sharp sniff and the way he wiped his eyes. Ichigo let Renji hold him until he felt sufficiently comforted.

“Get offa’ me, ‘m fine,” he mumbled finally and rolled away, face down again, but much better – if a bit embarrassed. Renji smiled uncertainly, resting a hand on Ichigo’s back again, rubbing it around. Ichigo took a long sigh.

“I’ve finally done it.”

“Not havin’ regrets, I hope.” Renji’s eyes were far too serious for the joke to be taken as such.

“No,” Ichigo hummed, pillowing his face on his arm. “It’s just weird.” He closed his eyes and let his tired body rest. “Feels weird,” he whispered lazily.

“Everything’s 'weird' with you,” Renji snorted, rolling on his side towards him.

“No wonder I ended up with you then.”

Renji’s eyes crinkled in a smile, a soft beaming glow. “There's my number one,” he whispered, kissing him.

Ichigo managed to smile a bit, sighed, and let his eyes close again, feeling exhausted and pitiful… and very uncertain, especially in the ensuing silence. Renji seemed at ease and relaxed, but Ichigo didn’t know what to do or say. They’d just had sex and he didn’t know what happened now.

Renji seemed to pick up on his unease, because where he lay comfortably on his back, he turned his head towards Ichigo, his hair pillowed beneath him, and quietly offered, “I’m listenin’, Ichigo, if you wanna’ tell me something.”

“What would I wanna’ tell you?” Ichigo huffed, pulling in on himself. Renji gave a small shrug.

“Just in case you do, you can.”

Ichigo sweat for a few moments and bit his cheeks, and then, with a red face and with fingers fidgeting with a loose string on the pillow cover, mumbled, “Was it… okay?” He lifted his eyes to Renji, who hadn’t changed his expression as he listened, perhaps knowing by this point that Ichigo often made long pauses before finishing whatever he was going to say. “For you?” Ichigo finally added.

“Yeah?” Renji raised his eyebrows and frowned lightly, searching Ichigo’s face. “What do you mean?”

“… You know…” Biting his lower lip, Ichigo made a nondescript gesture, as if willing Renji to understand.

“No, I don’t know,” Renji repeated back softly, “That’s why I asked what you mean.”

Ichigo sighed, furrowing his brow. “Okay, this sounds really dumb, but…” He struggled, this part inside him that felt small and stupid and insecure creeping out and taking control of his brain. “Was it bad at all? Like… was it like…” He swallowed at Renji’s silence. “Is that the worst you've ever had it?”

Renji didn’t reply immediately, continuing to stare for a few moments, before he frowned incredulously and wondered, _“What?”_

Ichigo backtracked hastily, “Okay, not the worst, you know what I mean-” At Renji’s scrunched and confused expression, he blurted, “Look, I told you it was dumb!”

 _“Yeah,_ it’s dumb?!” Renji scoffed, “What the  _fuck_ are you talking about?” Ichigo’s face fell, and he retreated a bit, pouting and turning his head the other way on his arms.

“Whatever, forget it.”

He closed his eyes, flushed in the face and feeling perfectly _horrible._  He didn't know why he was feeling insecure now, but he was, and it had just sort of _come out_. He shouldn't have said anything, should he. He should've just shut up and not complained.

Ugh, he wished the bed would swallow him like it had swallowed Glen Lantz. He heard Renji take a confused inhale, and then let it out again after holding it and deciding he had nothing to say.

Renji rolled towards him and put a hand on his arm as if to try to get his attention back. Ichigo burrowed his head further down, refusing to look at him. “Why’re you saying this now? We just did it and we had a great time.” Ichigo looked up a bit, peeking out. Renji seemed uncertain suddenly, his expression pinched in a crestfallen frown. “I mean, didn’t we?...”

“I just wanna’ know if you thought it was okay,” Ichigo said into his arm, eyes peering imploringly into Renji’s. “The truth.”

"... I don't understand, are you worried you were bad or something?"

" _Yes_ , okay?! I thought you got what I was saying!"

“Ichigo, what the fuck, are you stupid?” Renji bopped him lightly on the forehead. “It was more than _‘okay.’_ I just said it was great, didn’t I? That’s what I really think,” he assured.

Mumbling slowly, this scared and vulnerable crazy thing seized him, coming out with, “Maybe you just had low expectations to begin with.”

Renji blinked at him, mouth open, seeming all over dumbfounded as he suddenly sat back and just stared. “The fuck?” he finally said.

“Whatever.”

“Dude, this isn’t like you at all,” Renji noted before Ichigo could dive his face back into the bed again. “What's wrong? What’re you thinking?” The warm hand on his arm coaxed him to come out enough that he rested his cheek on his forearms.

“Well sometimes…” Ichigo scratched at the bed, confessing, “Sometimes I wonder what you’re doing with me.” With no reply, Ichigo took another breath and told him his worries. Maybe he'd been worried about it for some time now without even realizing.

“I dunno’ what I’m doing an’ I don’t really fit in with your friends or your whole…” he tried to explain with his hands, but came up with, “insane party life. I mean, my friends have told me from the start that this is a bad idea, on top of it, and I know what they're talking about. The two of us might get along really well but that doesn't mean our lives fit.”

Renji listened to his concerns attentively as always, but when it was clear that Ichigo was done speaking, he said bluntly, but seriously, “That’s crazy.” Ichigo didn’t like having his concerns dismissed out of hand; it seemed like everyone always did that – his irritation was soothed when Renji gave an explanation that he accepted.

“Nobody decides what fits into my life but me, Ichigo – _me_  – an’ I don’t want some imagined person who might be perfect for me when you’re the real thing.” Renji smiled a bit then, nudging him teasingly, “And pretty great, I might add.”

Letting himself be pitiful a little longer, Ichigo sulked, “Who cares if it’s the real thing if the real thing fucking sucks.”

Renji waved a hand easily. “Ahh, you only suck like fifty percent a’ the time.” Grinning, he hunkered down and scooted close to Ichigo on his belly, pressing his face up to Ichigo’s shoulder and cooing in his ear, “An’ I suck the other fifty ta’ make it even.” He tried to kiss him, but Ichigo leaned back, pushing them apart with his arm.

“Be serious,” he said flatly, disappointed, which Renji cleared his throat at and shaped up.

“Okay, okay,” he agreed. “Serious.” Exhaling through his nose, he considered, “Is that how you feel? Like you don’t fit into my life?” Ichigo was silent, but Renji hummed. “Well Ichigo, no one’s gonna’ fit into my life perfect, unless they’re my clone, and even then, this place ain’t big enough for two.”

Ichigo managed a smile at that, but it fell flat, and Renji met his eyes, speaking assuringly. “Ichigo, I haven’t even thought about that shit, because when we’re together, I feel fucking awesome.” Renji gazed at him softly. “That’s the important part,” he said.

“I guess,” Ichigo agreed hesitantly.

“…” Renji frowned sadly, as though feeling he hadn’t reassured him well enough or had let him down. “Have I made you feel that way?” he repeated quietly. "You don’t really feel like that, do you?"

Feeling bad for putting that look on Renji’s face, Ichigo reluctantly whispered, “Sometimes.”

“Ichigo.” Dismayed, Renji expression was crestfallen. Ashamed and sorry for bringing it up, Ichigo looked away. This was supposed to be a good moment, a good night, and here he's fucked it all up with his stupid insecure shit.

“…”

“Ichigo, you weren’t a disappointment,” he put forth rather helplessly, like he didn’t know what to say to make Ichigo feel better, just that he wanted to do so, and soon. Ichigo turned his face back down into the pillow, and was still and quiet.

 _“Ichigo,"_  he was urged, quite earnestly, but Ichigo didn’t move. “Ichigo. Hey.”

There came a sudden whip of air past his head as Renji went to punch him, and Ichigo rolled away sharply just as Renji’s fist buried into the mattress. “What the fuck!” he sputtered, scowling.

“Snap out of it!” Renji demanded, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “God, you always put so much pressure on yourself. Would you quit being so down on yourself and just _chill?_ ” Giving Ichigo a serious look, he said again, “You weren’t bad. It was your first time for god’s sake. Of course you aren't gonna' be super amazing if it was your first time.” Ichigo looked down at his stomach, fidgeting. Renji sighed and said in a tone that was a bit more subdued, “I dunno’ what this is about, but cut yourself a break.”

“… You knew.” Ichigo lifted his head challengingly.

“Yeah?...” Renji raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I knew. I told you that.”

“So what made you decide on me then – if you knew from the start I was some innocent flower and I was gonna' suck in bed… why then?"

"What, am I an asshole? Is that the only thing that matters?"

"Why bother otherwise? What's the point with me?”

Renji let out a confused and exasperated breath, completely incredulous and staring at him like he’d gone nuts. “What the fuck?” he wondered. “Where’s this coming from, Ichigo?” More earnestly and with a bit of worry, Renji felt at his forehead and leaned closer, his voice lowering in caring concern. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you? So why’re you sayin’ this stuff now? Like you... like you think you're not good enough for me...”

That scared insecure wretched part of him not having fully been kicked back into its stupid depressed corner of his brain, Ichigo shut his eyes and muttered tiredly, “Renji, just humor me.” He gave him a look then, eyes searching to the depths of Renji’s soul. “Why.”

"What, why I like you?"

"Yeah."

"Why wouldn't I?!"

"Why though."

Renji’s face scrunched in confusion, but his eyes didn’t leave Ichigo’s, trapped there in a sort of aghast worry. “Because,” he sputtered.

Ichigo frowned. “That’s not good enough. Why?” he pressed.

Flustered, Renji drew up and, puffing up his chest, said, “I’ll _tell_ you why!”

A bit righteously upset by then, Renji jabbed a finger into Ichigo’s chest and glared. “Listen, you jerk! You’re not the only one who, uh…” He lost some of his confidence then, stuttering a bit as he bumbled along, “y’know, who feels not good enough. I wonder why you gave _me a_ chance sometimes, like-” He huffed to himself and raked his hair back, then held his hands apart, moving them as he spoke. “Did you start to like me just because I’m the only one who ain’t too scared’a’ your roommate ta’ even try? Or,” his voice went alarmingly fragile then, in danger of cracking, “or did you actually see something inside a’ me that-”

Ichigo’s eyes grew rounder and rounder as he listened, and he watched with a sort of numb surprise as Renji shook himself like a dog and began again. “Look…” Ichigo did, and after the ensuing seconds of silence, Renji grew flustered at the scrutiny. “Don’t look at me!” he sputtered defensively.

“What the fuck, you just said ta’-”

“It’s a fucking filler word, Ichigo!” Renji scrubbed his face with his hands. “Guhh!”

“Talk,” Ichigo demanded flatly. Renji shook himself again.

“What I mean is, if you’re insecure, I know how you feel,” he sighed, frowning sadly to himself. “To be honest…” He pulled on his ear a bit, looking away, sitting on his ass next to him with his legs half folded, and Ichigo just lay still and stared. Renji swallowed almost nervously, conspicuously quiet for a moment or two, before telling the wall, “I don’t really have sex with people I like. Well, people I’m really close to, I mean. Usually if we start becomin’ too close a' buddies, we’ll stop doin’ it. I try not to get too invested so that if I ever screwed up-” He stopped abruptly and took two handfuls of his hair, yanking on it and suddenly seething, “Will you stop looking at me?! I said don’t!”

Ichigo furrowed his brow at his defensive cagey demeanor. “What is your problem?”

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me, Ichigo,” he ordered darkly, the threat real and serious. When Ichigo shut his mouth but continued to just stare at him flatly, Renji pretty much attacked him.

Ichigo reflexively raised his arms to block him, but Renji grabbed him by the back of his neck and rolled him, shoving his head roughly against the bed. He sat on Ichigo’s back and pushed him down so hard that Ichigo wheezed, his breath hissing out of him. “If you look at me, I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Renji growled somewhere above him, dark and ferocious, his hand fisted in Ichigo’s hair.

“God damnit, Renji!” Ichigo slapped the bed, coughing. Renji dropped against his back and held him under the arms and around the chest in a rather sheepish hug, his head huddled between his shoulderblades where Ichigo couldn’t possibly see his expression.

“Anyways, I’m tryin’a’ say,” he mumbled, voice small and uncertain, and Ichigo’s struggling slowed a bit. "The reason why..." Ichigo fought to pick his head up and turn it to the side to breathe, and heard Renji breathing, felt the warmth against his back.

“Well… my life’s a thousand times better.”

Ichigo went still at that.

_‘You never want a change? You never hope something crazy will happen and make your life a thousand times better?’_

Wondering if that sudden burst of anger had just been insecurity as Renji had prepared to open his heart, Ichigo lay quietly, hardly daring to breathe. At Ichigo’s silent stricken reaction, Renji held him tighter, squeezing him and digging his head against his back, as if he thought Ichigo would disappear or slip through his hands if he didn’t hold on and love on him.

“I really like you,” he whispered. “… So… d’you get it?” When Ichigo didn’t respond for a second or two, struck dumb at the implication that Renji didn’t do it with people he liked, yet he liked him… When he just lay there silent, Renji clarified, “This is new for me too.”

His forehead pressed into Ichigo’s spine, hair tickling the skin, Renji rambled on. “I’m winging a lot of this - but that doesn’t matter, because’m really happy.” He dug his fingers into Ichigo’s flesh, holding him tight. “So you don’t have to feel like just because you don’t know shit, you’re not good enough or something, because I’m the same. We can figure this out. That's... the whole point, right? That's what's beautiful about this.” Rubbing his thumbs against Ichigo’s skin, he turned his head to the side, resting his cheek against Ichigo’s shoulder, sounding as though he felt better.

Ichigo did too, admittedly. Much better.

“Honestly, I’m excited about it.”

“How come?” Ichigo hummed, peeking one eye up to Renji, who’d almost wriggled over enough that he could see him over his shoulder.

“Figuring out how we like ta’ have sex and how ta’ romance me into your love slave doesn’t sound like the most fun you’ve ever had?” There was the Renji he knew, his baseline cheer having returned to his voice.

“… Maybe the slave part.”

“Well I love rom-coms,” Renji joked. “You get that one for free.” Ichigo snorted, rolling his eyes. Renji scootched up a bit, getting a better grip on him and setting his chin on Ichigo’s shoulder. “My point is, there’s no rush. Nothing to get worried for.”

He rolled Ichigo over a bit to make his eyes meet his. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Renji smiled widely and it made Ichigo’s heart swell like a balloon being inflated to bursting. “Great.” He sat up and released Ichigo, rubbing at his nose. “Now, ta’ forget that conversation ever happened,” he said under his breath, which had Ichigo smirking.

“You know, for a touchy-feely guy, you’re awfully repressed.” Ichigo was starting to make the connection between Renji’s usually talkative nature, liking to work through problems aloud and get them off his chest, and those disturbing quiet moments in which he was truly bothered and silently thoughtful, secretive… Had that been the first time Renji had told him what was on his mind in one of those times? And he’d lashed out in vulnerability, too ashamed to be looked at but unable to keep the words in all the same?

Renji predictably tensed at the jibe, shoulders hunching in irritation, but he seemed to be fighting the urge to take the bait. “Fuck that, Ichigo.”

“What, you don’t wanna’ paint my toenails an’ tell me how much you-”

Renji whipped around and lunged, “YOU!” Ichigo shrieked with laughter and thrashed around weakly as Renji attacked him for a bit and tossed him around, which didn’t go on long, because they were both still shaky and exhausted and recovering, Ichigo especially. He felt as weak as a baby deer, and it wasn’t getting any easier to move.

“So,” Renji finally sighed, laying next to him with a huff, panting a bit and wiping his hair from his face with a smile. “How was it for you?" he mocked.

"Oh shut up."

"Okay, I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Renji laughed. "But really, how do you feel after that?” he asked, checking Ichigo with care. Eyes meeting Ichigo’s searchingly, he licked his lips and hesitantly muttered, “Hope I didn’t get too rough with you…”

Ichigo shook his head, and felt patently embarrassed, fidgeting; Renji had been very very gentle.

“Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Kinda’ wobbly,” Ichigo mumbled, feeling suddenly shy as he flicked his eyes up. “That’s about it.” Renji gave an assured smile at that, and Ichigo matched it after a moment.

Ichigo rolled onto his back with Renji’s help and then they talked quietly about where they wanted to go to the beach tomorrow. Renji gave him some aftercare and comforted him, holding him and petting him as he spoke, his tone soothing and slow. Ichigo felt wonderfully cozy, and rested his head against the meat of Renji’s shoulder.

Renji mentioned he’d seen a place in a travel brochure that he wanted to go to tomorrow – there were supposed to be these rocks lining the shore or something.

“Ts so great about a lotta’ rocks,” Ichigo mumbled sleepily, and if he were a cat, he’d be purring steadily under the gentle tracings of Renji’s fingers against his bare skin.

“They’re these gigantic rocks piled up against the harbor. You can look out over the top of them on the boardwalk. We’ll see the shoreline,” Renji said in a hushed tone, as if he were imagining it right then, the endless line of ocean and sky. “We’re not supposed to, but we can climb on ‘em.”

“What’f someone sees?”

“There’s no lifeguards. We’ll get away with it.”

“Hmm. ‘Kay.” Ichigo opened an eye to see Renji smiling down at him.

After a twenty-minute doze and chat, Renji scooted out from under him in favor of leaning over him and kissing on him, slow and warm. Ichigo hummed sleepily and snuggled into the bed, eyes closed.

“You already asked me how I thought it was,” Renji mumbled against his shoulder, kissing there for a long second. Leaning towards his face to hum in his ear and nuzzle against his face, Renji kissed at his cheek. “What about you?”

“Hm?” Ichigo lifted his shoulder at the tickling Renji’s nose caused on his neck.

“How was it for you?” Renji pried, teasing, “’Okay?’ Was I good?”

Ichigo rolled his head towards him a bit, yawning, and blinking himself back to alertness. “Yeah,” he said simply, and Renji lounged next to him, head propped up on one hand, the other rubbing Ichigo’s chest. “I have ta’ say,” Ichigo smiled, and like the little shit that he was, said, “I had you all wrong.”

Renji raised a thick eyebrow. “Mm?”

“Yeah.” Ichigo left it there, but after a few seconds, Renji urged him on with a ‘well?’ expression, and Ichigo conceded to say, “Everybody had me convinced that you were this crazy wild man.” He smirked. “But it turns out you’re just a big marshmallow.”

“Oh yeah?” Renji rolled over onto him and tickled him, and Ichigo laughed, kicking weakly and wrestling him back as well as he could.

Renji began mauling him with kisses, getting him close to the base of his neck, and under his ear, anywhere he could tickle him with them, and Ichigo fought him off. With a laugh, Ichigo sat up, just in time for Renji to leap on him and roll them around, leaving them kissing and fighting.

“What are you doing?” Ichigo gasped through his laughter, but Renji just hummed back, laughing himself as he kissed against Ichigo’s neck and shook him around.

After a few minutes romping about like little boys, Renji began to get excited, and the wrestling turned steamy. Ichigo, having gotten over his nerves now that the first time was out of the way, embraced Renji’s playful teasing grin with; ah, this was great.

The second time was wonderful fun, clumsy and playful – after a wild roll that placed Ichigo on his back in a happy messy-haired pile, Renji spread both arms above them to pull the blankets up over their heads. “Sap,” Ichigo gasped through surprised laughter in the dim light.

Renji snickered lowly, settling on his elbows above Ichigo, his hair hanging all around them. “I told you, I’m a fucking sucker for some sap,” he hummed.

Ichigo smiled a little, eyes raised to Renji’s. “Lame,” he teased.

Renji’s body melted, his face soft and eyes warm and lovestruck. “Aww baby,” he breathed, settling down upon Ichigo and taking his face in his hands, kissing him.

Ichigo hummed back into it for a moment, wrapping his arms around Renji, heart fluttering at the care and attention. Renji sealed his mouth against Ichigo’s, thumbs stroking through his sideburns. ‘. . .’ Ichigo took a deep breath, puffed his cheeks out, and blew hard into Renji’s mouth.

Renji startled and began coughing, then laughing. “What the fuck, Ichigo!” he choked, bringing one hand to his throat and then pounding at his chest.

Ichigo was just laughing away at him, sputtering. “Your face!”

Renji scoffed, snickering at the sight of Ichigo completely overtaken with hysterical laughter, flopping half to the side beneath him, hand carelessly thrown over his mouth. “Stop thrashing around, you’re gonna’ knee me in the dick!” Pushing at the blankets bearing down on them by shaking his head and shoulders, Renji muttered, still trying to hide a bit of hilarity, “Seriously stop, I can’t see shit.”

“You’re the one who made the blanket fort.”

“Indulge me,” Renji hummed sultrily, giving a wide smile and nipping at the end of Ichigo’s nose, their breath fogging up the confined space.

Ichigo snorted. “Get to business then,” he prompted in a bluffing manner.

“Pff.” Renji lowered to kiss him.

“Hmm,” Ichigo sighed.

They kissed and slid their legs against each other, laughing and tossing about under the blankets. Ichigo clutched at Renji’s face and kissed him with as much skill and passion as he possessed. After a few minutes of pressing their hips together, hands and arms around the others’ back to pull them towards each other, Ichigo began to get quite worked up himself, his arousal matching Renji’s. Finally, Renji was ready to go.

“One sec,” he muttered, opening the blanket cave to grab another condom and quickly rip it open with his teeth and put it on. Ichigo lay waiting, tentatively opening his legs for Renji to fit back atop him, smiling at his return. He pulled the sheets back up, enclosing them in darkness.

Ichigo participated more that time as they rolled around wildly under the blanket. He sweated and gasped as Renji licked his fingers and worked them inside of him, just as a cursory check that he hadn’t tightened back up in the interim from their first time making love till now.

With a guiding hand, Renji slid back inside of Ichigo, sighing in satisfaction and letting his arms rest around him, before beginning to rock against him. Ichigo held onto Renji tightly, fingers digging hard into his arms as he gasped against Renji’s mouth. Renji laughed, sending Ichigo into a breathless smile. It was much easier to get into it that time, now that the unknown was no longer there and the petrifying fear and excitement had released him.

“Your fuckin’ hair keeps tickling me!” Ichigo complained breathlessly, voice twisted with laughter and then slipping into a thick moan as Renji suckled at his neck.

“Alright look, Cactus-head,” Renji mumbled against his ear, which had Ichigo laughing again and wrapping his legs around him more tightly.

Energized by arousal, they rolled and tossed about. With a gasp of relish, Renji pulled out to change position, and directed Ichigo to turn on his side. He held the blanket cave up to give him room, and then embraced him from behind, guiding Ichigo’s leg up and forward, enough that his hips could fit against his from the back. He penetrated him again and thrust against him in quick shallow motions, his stomach gently smacking and sticking against Ichigo’s back.

“Ah,” he grunted deeply, holding Ichigo close and burying his head in the crook of Ichigo’s neck, his sweaty hair brushing his face, “Ah Ichigo.”

Ichigo let their wet slimy hands clasp together, their fingers interlocking, and his eyes shut in the hot darkness, feeling as though Renji had crawled inside him, enclosed him on all sides, like two warm hands enveloping his heart, a focused breath on the embers of a fire, carefully bringing him up to a heady blaze.

As Ichigo lay panting and shaking, brought to peaks of pleasure he hadn’t known existed, Renji took their clasped hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss there, the hiss of breath from his nose warming his knuckles.

After, Renji rolled off of him and threw the blankets down, lying there on his back with one arm under Ichigo, heaving and lax with satisfaction. They lay there unmoved for about five leisurely minutes while Ichigo panted and gasped towards the ceiling, his body still heaving and throbbing and trying to recover. The rush of emotion following the climax was present again, but he didn’t feel sad this time. Pleasantly empty, more like – blissed out, very… _zen._ Intensely peaceful, almost aggressively calm, if that made any sense. Every bit of him felt overloaded and used up and restful, as though his whole body was a tense muscle having released in hot water, wonderfully lazy, yet invigorated.

Ichigo gave a long high-starting sigh, and found a smile spreading lazily across his face as the breath whooshed out. Renji then, with a groan, managed to sit up, rise, and wipe them down with a wet towel again. He disposed of the condoms and took care of Ichigo, who lay exhausted against the mattress, smiling like a purring cat in a sunbeam. Renji lifted him a little and adjusted him on the bed – Ichigo let his eyes fall peacefully shut as Renji checked him and comforted him with a warm hand.

“How do you feel?” Renji hummed, sliding his warm wonderfully pliant body next to Ichigo’s, a hand touching to Ichigo’s face, turning his cheek a bit. “Okay?”

Ichigo rolled his head against Renji’s chest, one eye open. He let his hands fold on his stomach. He did admittedly feel a bit awkward after his first time, in the sense that his body felt a bit alien. His muscles were slightly achey, his legs wobbly, and his asshole was throbbing with each heartbeat, but other than that, “I’m great,” he murmured.

Renji smiled. Ichigo’s eyes weren’t open or anything, but he still just knew. Renji guided his face up and they kissed leisurely and then laid together quietly. Renji held Ichigo and stroked a flat slow hand over his bare stomach and chest.

At last, when Ichigo was nodding off, Renji nudged his arm out from under his head to do a quick braid in his hair and fix the bed a bit. Ichigo yawned, and was able to make his wobbly body cooperate enough that he could sit up and find his briefs.

Casting a wary glance to Renji, who didn’t say anything, Ichigo put his underwear back on, not liking to sleep naked. Renji yawned loudly without bothering to cover his mouth, and pulled the blankets up, getting in bed and holding the covers up until Ichigo got under them next to him, then let them settle about their shoulders. Facing Ichigo, head on the pillow, he held Ichigo’s hand in his and snuggled their foreheads together, their knees just brushing somewhere below.

“Sleep tight,” he hummed in a whisper, letting his arm cross the space between them and rest around Ichigo’s back. Ichigo adjusted his head on the bed, his nose brushing Renji’s, and fell asleep to the comfort of Renji’s breath ghosting over his lips over and over and his fingers gently fitted between Renji’s.


	19. Ichigo in Love

_I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do._

_. . ._

 

When Ichigo woke up later, he jerked to alertness with a snort, accidentally elbowing Renji in the morning boner as he rubbed his face with his wrist and peered blearily around. He tried to find a clock, and saw that it was only four, still a long time left to sleep.

 _‘Toilet,’_ he thought vaguely, trying to get up, but found his lower back and legs were like jelly.

He yawned and woke up a bit more, and propped himself up on his arms, sat up, then lurched to the edge of the bed. As soon as he put his feet to the carpet and stood up, an alarming amount of fluid came out of him, soaked through his underwear, and ran down his legs. Suddenly wide awake and _mortified_ , Ichigo found that his efforts to stop whatever was happening by clenching up had no effect in slowing the trickle of liquid.

Slapping his hands down over himself in panic, Ichigo let his knees knock together in a moment of sheer shock, his legs shaking. What the hell, was he having an accident at twenty-two? What the fuck was- Oh god!

Ichigo ran to the bathroom, stumbling through the doorway, the motion-light coming on at his entrance. Flinching against the bright reflections of all the white porcelain, Ichigo sat on the toilet, eyes clenched shut in embarrassment. Oh god, he’d just soiled himself. He couldn’t believe this.

Stomach aching, Ichigo pulled his briefs down in shame, and peeked one eye open to assess the damage, only to open them both up when he found that there was a big wet patch in the seat of his underwear, soaked through and… _clear?_

Ichigo stared at the wet spot, and then, looking up to the door warily as if expecting to be walked in on, he slipped his underwear off his legs and laid them on the sink counter next to him. Elbows on his thighs, hands wrenched in his hair, Ichigo tried to think logically. Was it possible he’d just had a nocturnal emission – never mind that he’d long since outgrown that sort of thing and that the wet spot was _way_ too large for that to be the case.

No, that couldn’t be spunk. His dick was dry and soft, just lying there innocently as he stared down at it, legs spread and shaking. All of that- that- _whatever it was_ had definitely come out of- _there!_

What the hell had just happened to him? What was happening to his body? His legs shook weakly and his chest heaved with labored gasps as more came out. He was trying to hold it, he really was, but it wasn’t working. With a sort of frenzied panic, Ichigo felt his throat tighten up. What was happening?

Carefully, he leaned forward, biting his lip hard, and reached one hand back to feel around. Was this the instant karma he got for having sex before marriage? He knew that some gay men became incontinent after anal sex, but Ichigo hadn’t thought that could happen to _him_ , not after his very first time. After all, Renji had been so careful…

Ichigo brought his hand out for inspection, squinting at it rather stupidly. Puzzling over the wet residue there, all his medical knowledge seemed to fail him in his moment of barely-awakened confusion and surprise. He felt around again and looked at it a bit more, feeling it between his fingers.

It wasn’t water. It was the consistency of cum honestly, thick and a bit sticky, viscous, but it wasn’t cum – it was clear like water was, but it wasn’t water. What is it?... Oh shit.

Ichigo was gripped with fear as a sudden thought occurred to him. Had the condom broke? Had Renji somehow cum inside him without him knowing? And how _would_ he know, Ichigo’s never had someone cum inside before, how should he know how it would feel? Maybe when they’d been in the middle of – _you know –_ he’d been so distracted that he’d missed it!

Oh mother of fuck.

“Ichigo?” There came a sudden knock at the door, one knuckle tapping there gently a few times. Ichigo’s head snapped up. “Hey,” Renji called, voice raspy and soft from sleep. “I gotta’ use it, lemme’ in real quick.” Shit, he’d woken up!

“Uh, don’t come in here!” Ichigo called, voice cracking, his entire body frozen in horror for a moment.

He heard Renji shift his weight outside for a moment, a dull thud as if he was resting his head on the door. “Why not? You takin’ a shit?”

“No!” His heart pounded like crazy, a jolt of horror shooting through him. “Just go away!”

“…” Renji scratched his hair. “What the fuck?” Ichigo got himself to his feet, disregarding the leak. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Would you fuck off?” At that, Renji tried to open the door, and Ichigo promptly threw himself against it. Renji can’t know about this – that was the one thought in his mind, never mind that he’s scared witless and inevitably would have called Renji for help anyways. He’s just so embarrassed and freaked out that he doesn’t want Renji to see him! He can’t come in here!

Renji’s voice grew serious then, sharply concerned, like he thought he were seriously hurt. “What’s wrong?” Hardly waiting a beat, he told him, “I’m coming in,” and wrenched at the door handle, steadily pushing his weight against it to avoid slamming Ichigo suddenly into the wall.

“Get out,” Ichigo protested, shoving himself backwards against the door, but it was hopeless. He was still feeling weak after last night, his muscles loose and wobbly, and now his legs and hands were shaking like mad with fear and strain.

Renji opened the door and gave him an assessing look. He came in, confused. “What’s the matter with you?” He wrinkled his brow and squinted at Ichigo through the light of the bathroom, his eyes not yet adjusted.

Deciding it was no use and rattled to his bones, Ichigo grit out rawly, “Look at what you’ve done to me, you piece of shit!” glaring at Renji balefully, eyes wide. His pupils were constricted as he stared back at Renji, who just stood there squinting at him, naked and suspicious.

At Ichigo’s behest, Renji did look, viewing him up and down with care and then grinning at the love marks all over him: flushed skin, his ruffled hair, his wobbly knees, pink marks where he’d kissed one spot more than the others. Renji straightened a bit, looking distinctly proud of himself.

“Don’t get smug, you bastard! _Look_ at this!” Ichigo demanded, it falling halfway through from angry to pitiful. Renji’s expression dropped at that, and he approached in concern, holding a hand out.

“Whoa, Ichigo,” he murmured, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Look!” Ichigo practically sobbed, urging Renji to look at what’s happened. Renji did look, lip sticking out as he looked him over again more carefully.

“… What am I lookin’ at?”

“You came inside a’ me is what you’re looking at!” Ichigo shouted, upset that his concerns weren’t being treated with the level of alarm he felt was appropriate.

“Hm?” Renji’s brow furrowed. “I wore a condom.”

“It musta’ broke.”

“I buy extra-strength.”

Ichigo started to panic a bit, scrubbing his hair. What if he got the clap from this? What if _was_ incontinent now and he won’t be able to hold it anymore, oh god- What’s going to happen to him now?

“Woah, okay, just stay calm,” Renji urged, hands on Ichigo’s shoulders, soothing him, “You’re okay. Lemme’ check you.”

Ichigo, although embarrassed by what he felt was a very humiliating predicament – not to mention his own helplessness on the matter – was so terrified by what was happening to him that the worry trumped his modesty. He trusted Renji’s experience and knowledge more than his own where this was concerned besides, and not knowing what else to do, he agreed. So, cheeks hot with shame, he stepped forward and held his dick out of the way while Renji knelt in front of him and looked. He gave gentle prods to his trembling legs and bottom, his breathing slow and calm as he observed closely, to Ichigo’s chagrin. He tried to just look at the ceiling, but he couldn’t help but keep glancing back down to Renji’s face, trying to judge whether Renji seemed worried by what he saw, whether it was cause for concern.

Renji swiped his finger through the wet slick, and smelled it. “Oh for Christ’s sake,” Ichigo managed to whisper, mortified.

“What were you worried about again?” Renji wondered, “I came in you?”

“Yeah, look at what’s coming out!” he squeaked.

“This is all the lube I fucked inta’ you,” Renji raised an eyebrow, frowning. “I used a whole lot ta’ be safe. What, did you expect it ta’ evaporate?”

Ichigo was silent for a moment, two, his mouth open. Finally he heard himself say, “Oh,” and a breath rushed out of him. That was somewhat of a relief. He felt completely ridiculous now. That hadn’t even occurred to him.

“But,” he grit out, eyes averted in embarrassment, “I can’t hold it,” he confessed in a hushed voice, which was stupid, because it was just the two of them in the night in a hotel bathroom.

“It’s okay, that happens,” Renji explained easily, standing and taking one of Ichigo’s tense hands, rubbing his thumb against it.

Ichigo turned very red, head ducking. God, he was so embarrassed. He must look like such a kid, having a spazz attack for no reason just because he didn’t know anything. Renji said he was fine now, so that was good, but Ichigo still wasn’t completely put to rest, because… well… he still didn’t know what to do now that his body was doing this, and he needed Renji. As embarrassing as it was…

“Well what do I do now?” he wondered miserably, his voice strangled.

“Sit on the toilet until it comes out, or put some tissue in your underwear and come back to bed.” One thing he appreciated was Renji’s lack of jokes in this sensitive time, and the way he treated this as though it was no big deal, nothing to be embarrassed for, nothing to fret over.

All the same, at the news, Ichigo slumped and scowled. He picked up his wet briefs and spread them out in front of his face, stuck his lower lip out, glaring. Renji snickered and leaned into him, pecking him in the ear, then in the neck, fitting his head into the space.

“You’re okay,” he hummed, “It’s just somethin’ that happens.” Ichigo slapped his underwear on the sink and sighed. “Lemme’ tell you, usin’ spit-lube is worse, ‘cuz it froths up and gets all slimy?” Renji mumbled, yawning, and lightening the mood with his usual chatter. “Ahgg, that’s gross. Makes fuzz an’ shit stick ta’ yer’ dick? An’ believe me, you don’t want fuzz in your asshole.”

Ichigo smirked a little. _‘Always know how ta’ cheer me up, don’t you, idiot.’_

“Go back ta’ bed. You’re okay,” Renji said, patting him on the bum as he ushered him out of the bathroom.

“Okay, I got it.”

Ichigo sat on top of the covers, carefully resting partly on his back, not wanting to ruin the bedspread. He watched Renji pee with the door open before coming back to the bed. Ichigo swallowed as Renji got back under the covers, and darted his eyes around, fidgeting a bit. Maybe he should lay on that towel while he slept. His underwear were all wet, and he didn’t want to put them back on. He doesn’t want to sleep with tissues either.

He looked around for the towel, but Renji sat back up, calling his attention. “Just put on my boxers, babe.” Ichigo did when he found then, and was glad that he didn’t have to feel like he was in a diaper for the night.

Renji opened his arms for Ichigo to snuggle against him, and hummed against his head, “Sweet dreams, handsome.” Ichigo lay on his stomach right up next to him, his face pillowed on Renji’s arm. Renji rested his hand on the small of Ichigo’s back, their heads resting together.

 

. . .

 

They got up reasonably early for the wild night they’d had, taking their showers at about ten thirty, brushing teeth, passing each other, and digging through their bags for clothes as they got ready for a fun day.

Renji was bumming around on the bed in his unbelted pants, watching Ichigo go about his business as he got dressed and used the hair dryer. Finally, after watching him calmly for a time as he often did when he’d caught on to something, Renji asked, “Why’re you walkin’ like that?”

“Like what?” Ichigo called back, and in spite of himself, winced as he leaned down to grab his beach bag. “Mm,” he acknowledged reluctantly, “My ass kinda’ hurts, I guess.”

“What?” Ichigo jumped. He hadn’t heard Renji stand up, but he must’ve practically leapt off the bed to be behind him so fast. Renji seemed very displeased at this, frowning down at him. “You didn’t say that earlier…”

“Well it didn’t start hurting until just now.” Ichigo didn’t know why he was making such a thing of it.

“Ichigo, you’re not supposed to be in any pain,” Renji said tersely, touching his arm as if to turn him to better look at him. His brows were clenched together.

“What?”

“Not unless I did something wrong.” Ichigo blinked and mindlessly put a hand to his bottom, blinking again. Renji stared back at his stupid expression from eye to eye, and then concernedly demanded, “Lemme’ check you again,” moving forward as if to grip Ichigo’s pants on both sides and shuck them down to his knees.

“What? No,” Ichigo refused, leaping back, but Renji followed, hands out in a conciliatory manner. Ichigo gave him a ‘stay back’ look.

“If I hurt you, then-”

“What?” Ichigo blinked, it suddenly dawning on him. “Oh,” he said, “No, _that_ doesn’t hurt, just my butt.” Renji stared for a moment. “Y’know, from climbing all those steps.”

“Oh.” Renji seemed pacified then, shoulders dropping slowly. “Okay. Well, stretch it off then, we’ve got a lot to do today!” Renji passed him by with a swat to the bottom, which Ichigo chose to ignore other than sending a disgruntled glare after him.

After leaving the hotel room, they took a quick grocery store trip for some yogurt cups; or, well, Ichigo did. Renji got a breakfast burrito that practically smothered the car in a thick greasy syrupy smell.

“Dude,” Ichigo grunted, eyeing it as he drove, “that has a _lot_ of sugar.”

“Yeah,” Renji agreed, munching on it happily and speaking through his full mouth, and Ichigo felt this uncontrollable urge to laugh at the sight of his swelled cheeks, full to bursting like a chipmunk – and then following it, a certain tightening in his throat, and an urge to fall into a fit of tears when he realized who it reminded him of.

“When I was a kid I rotted out all my teeth. It sucked, ‘cause they’ve always sat really straight and everything – I never needed braces, but, ah,” Renji hummed, taking another bite and giving a muffled explanation, “Some stuff happened and I got a crazy amount a’ cavities. I had ta’ get so many fillings later that I thought my teeth were gonna’ fall outta’ my head. Scared me bad enough that I brush really good now, an’ floss. So fuck you, I’ll eat all the sugar I want.”

Ichigo snorted, and thought of Renji’s hard-earned and prized possessions, particularly his favorite game system, sold to take care of his teeth after they’d been knocked loose. It was true, a smile like that should be taken care of. “You smell like a deep fryer,” Ichigo said by way of comment.

They got subs to have later for lunch, to be kept safe in Ichigo’s cooler with some sodas, and as they stood at the counter in their beach clothes, Renji, being his usual amicable effusive self, made friends everywhere he went. The older woman working there called him ‘honey’ as he paid, and he got all spoony, which in turn had Ichigo teasing him, and of course Renji grew indignant – that led to like an hour long bickering session.

They parked some ways away, where they could see the shoreline, and before even letting the car come to a full stop, Renji leapt out, bolting down to the waterfront. Ichigo watched as Renji tore down the long length of sand, past the play equipment and picnic areas, all the way to the edge of the water. Ichigo followed at a more reasonable pace, chose a spot to drop their stuff and lay out a towel, and then approached at his side, finding Renji gazing out at the ocean with an almost sad look.

On closer inspection, it wasn’t sadness, but that deep thoughtful look, his eyes crawling over the horizon with a certain hunger. Renji seemed to realize he was there a moment later, and blinked, grinning at Ichigo. “Look at that! It just goes on and on,” he spouted, looking back, and Ichigo did look with him for a long time.

Finally, Renji turned with a grin and towed Ichigo half into the water – he got away with it for a few yards, until Ichigo broke free and made it back up to their stuff so he could take off his jacket.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of fun. It wasn’t that Ichigo had expected a large change to take place between them after sex was added to their relationship, but the changes that were there were pervasive. Something was different, but he couldn’t pinpoint what.

Far from the awkward aftermath that he’d half anticipated, everything seemed so much simpler, so much easier. As they whittled away the day swimming and floating out in the waves, then climbing on the massive boulders around the edge of the harbor, Ichigo thought he must have been this happy before sometime, but he couldn’t think when.

Playing in the rockholes and the salty spray crashing through the small caves the slabs of rock created, Renji rescued a beach ball that had the words _‘love is alive!’_ written on it. They tossed that around for a while near the shore and played in the water with some bikini babes.

It wasn’t until then that Ichigo noticed the difference. Renji was his same old flirty self – and it wasn’t that Ichigo was usually prone to jealousy, because he wasn’t – and it didn’t bother Ichigo at all. In fact, it made him smile in fondness. When they got out of the water and headed up the beach for lunch, they wandered the park for a while, Renji carelessly holding his hand and leading him around. He’d felt it earlier when walking around the hotel room that morning and Renji had watched him from the bed with that smile, and now too, climbing the rocks, swimming in the ocean, holding hands, walking in the grass, there was a certain closeness between them. Even though they didn’t spend every moment touching, after last night’s coupling and falling asleep next to each other, Ichigo felt like everywhere he went, they were together – although yeah, they literally were. Who said it had to make sense.

It was just… whenever he’d thought about this distant vague idea of his life, nothing remotely close to this had even crossed his mind, and if he’d been so far off in his estimations on _that,_ then who knew what else might happen, who knew what other crazy amazing things could happen to him. Who knew what he may have missed out on if he’d let the rain keep raining or if he hadn’t met the right people or if he hadn’t done the things he’d done. Who knew what kind of life he would’ve had.

“What’re you thinking about?” Renji hummed. Ichigo shrugged rather vaguely and smiled as Renji held up a few branches hanging off of a couple massive unpruned hedges so they could pass under. “No, c’mon, I wanna’ know what you’re smilin’ about.”

“Just thinkin’ about the future, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Renji glanced back a bit with a grin, leading them on.

“Yeah. I guess I always had this idea of where my life was going, but after,” Ichigo cleared his throat a bit, “I mean, well, I dunno’ anymore. Could be anything. I expect surprises now at least – something crazy.”

They came behind some trees and Renji released his hand, turning towards him, and gave him a smiling wild-eyed look for a few moments. He took him in his arms, holding him. “I’m so into you, you know?”

Ichigo glanced around anxiously, but was coaxed into a kiss, and soon didn’t mind the relative lack of privacy so much. Renji smiled when they broke, nose brushing against his, and let his hands creep down Ichigo’s back, firmly planting them on his ass and squeezing around. Ichigo broke eye-contact, but didn’t say anything, instead licking his lips and letting Renji kiss him again and rub their noses together.

After a walk through of the various gazebos and maritime monuments placed around the park, they wandered across the sand and then chilled for a while back by their stuff. Renji had found an abandoned umbrella and staked it in the ground in front, taking an extra long time tilting his head from one side to the next, puzzling over where would be the best spot – taking into account the changing position of the sun and how it would change the angle of the shade. Ichigo finally had to tell him to just sit down already before he ate his food, which finally got his attention. They had a power-lunch, then drank some sodas and then napped on the beach towels in front of the ocean, legs stretched out together.

When Ichigo woke up, warm and still mostly dozing, his foot twitched at a tickling sensation, and eventually when he picked his head up and blearily blinked through the sunlight, he saw that Renji had since gotten up and built a sand castle on his leg.

Ichigo watched him for a time to see how far he might go, and carefully closed his eyes every time Renji glanced up at him, which turned out to be very frequent, because eventually he was caught, and Renji lay forward next to him on his elbows. “Hey, ready ta’ do somethin’ else?”

“Mhm,” Ichigo yawned.

“Great.” Renji hopped onto the towel and sat up next to Ichigo, who merely folded his arms beneath his head, letting the sand castle stay – it was a pretty good one. “So, hey-”

Renji went to enthusiastically share something with him, but as he opened his mouth, his phone rang. He took it out of his pocket, glanced at it, and then silenced it, stowing it away again. “Anyway,” he began again, opening a pamphlet and showing it to Ichigo eagerly, “Look at this, I got this brochure from before – I found it at a gas station, an’ –”

“Okay, I know you’re all about brochures and everything, but you seriously planned this trip because of something you saw at a gas station?”

“Wh- _no,"_ Renji denied. Ichigo closed his eyes and smiled on one side of his mouth. _“A_ _nyways,”_ he said pointedly, to which Ichigo quickly rubbed his fist against his mouth to try and hide his smile. “It says there’s a place right around here where you can rent a boat if you want.”

“Ohhh,” Ichigo hummed, “so that’s why you’ve been mentioning this all day.” Now that he thought about it, Renji had been staring wistfully at passing sailboats as well. “So I’m assuming the unnamed person who might want to rent a boat is actually you?”

Rather than acknowledging his sass, Renji instead gave him his hopeful puppy eyes and anxiously wondered, “Ichigo, do you have a boating license?”

“I think I got one in middle school, but I have no idea where it is?”

“We should go out on the water.” Renji took his hand and tugged him a few steps. “Please? You don’t have to have it with you – they can look you up maybe.”

“What, you wanna’ rent a boat?” Ichigo frowned. Actually, it wasn’t that bad of an idea, other than y’know, neither of them having the skill to drive a boat.

Deciding that he might as well let Renji _have this_ if he wanted it so bad, Ichigo helped him gather up their stuff and they headed down to the marina facilities and let themselves into the office. Ichigo waited outside and looked over the port as Renji worked his charms inside, and once he came out, Ichigo frowned and narrowed his eyes at him as he walked down the dock eagerly towards a small motorboat that was tied up.

“This one."

“You paid already?”

“Yeah, hop in, Ichiban,” Renji urged, putting one foot inside and taking their bag out of Ichigo’s hands. Ichigo continued to stand there with his hands on his hips and scrutinized Renji skeptically as he looked over the simple controls and put in the key.

“What’re you doing – Renji, do you actually have a boating license?”

“Relax, I got it,” Renji waved off, then did a double take towards him and pulled him forward. To avoid falling off the side of the dock, Ichigo crouched and got in. He folded his arms and watched disapprovingly as his boyfriend went to the back of the boat and looked all over the motor mechanism with bright eyes.

“Do you know how to drive a boat?” Ichigo wondered with a frown. “When did you drive a boat?” he mused.

“I said I _got it!_ ” Renji huffed. “I can figure it out,” he grumbled more lowly, and Ichigo raised his eyebrows and splayed himself out near the bow and let Renji dick around for awhile. At least he was happy.

Finally Renji began yanking on the ripcord of the motor and managed to start the thing, and Ichigo untied them from the dock, and they moved slowly out through the buoy path onto the water. By then, a bit more cautious, Ichigo moved to sit in the middle of the boat in one of the seats, one foot stretching across to rest in Renji’s lap as he steered.

They zoomed through the gentle waves for some time to enjoy the sea breeze. Renji had Ichigo take the wheel and just stood at the side of the boat and stared wordlessly out over the water, his hair tangling in the wind.

After a few minutes, Renji let his hand find Ichigo’s and he just watched the horizon and the birds and the waves.

Having only paid for about an hour, they drove back and walked through town. It being a festival weekend, there was a concert going on along the waterfront, and after browsing the shopfronts and picking some souvenirs – Renji getting a pair of neon-green shades and Ichigo picking pink – they sat on the grass for a while and listened and just enjoyed each other, using each other as chairs.

Ichigo smiled at the way Renji’s foot wiggled around lazily as the band started playing some bossa nova; he always moved a little bit when he was listening to music.

“Hey Ichigo. If you could be an animal, what would you be?”

“What?”

“Just answer. It’s fun.”  
  
Ichigo grimaced incredulously and didn’t give it much thought. “Uhh, I dunno’, a hedgehog?”

“Dude, that’s so dumb.”  
  
“Hey, you told me to answer!” Ichigo sputtered, shoving his back against Renji’s, and Renji burst into laughter, leaning his head back on his shoulder.

“Now you ask me something.” Ichigo sighed in consideration, pulling his knees up, able to feel Renji humming to the music from the way his back vibrated.

He thought and thought what he’d like to know about Renji, but he knew most of the small things. Renji’s favorite color was dark green, but he seldom wore it because of how badly it clashed and made him look ‘like Christmas,’ he loved taiyaki and animals and – secretly – trashy romance books.  
  
Well, there was one thing. Ichigo wanted to ask about what Renji had said that day in the river, about how he was waiting for ‘the one.’ He wanted to ask him if he’d found it.

At last, too cowardly, Ichigo went for the overdone, “What would you do with a hundred million yen?”

Renji hummed for a time longer, thinking about it entirely too seriously. “A hundred million, wow… Hm…” At last he told him rather quietly, “Get a house. Travel the world. Maybe get my master’s.”

Ichigo listened, balancing the back of Renji’s head against his. “Spoil you. Buy you nice things,” he said with a smile in his voice, and Ichigo’s gut curled up and a shy smile fought his mouth for control. “So yeah, I think I’d probably spend it, y’know, use it to enjoy life, and then once it ran out, I’d go on as I am.”

Ichigo considered that in silence. “That probably sounds kinda’ dumb to you, huh? You’d probably save it.”

“No. I think it’s nice.”

Renji played some Pokémon Go while Ichigo laid on him and watched him retake the same gym over and over. Arguments over the merits of Team Valor versus Instinct were had. Renji kept cursing when he was exited out of the app because he was receiving a call – he ignored all of them and went back to the game and cuddled Ichigo.  
  


That night was hot, sticky, and heavy.  
  


When they got back to the hotel late, as if having come upon the same thought simultaneously, they fell into a passionate heated bout of kissing and touching. Rather than freezing up in shyness as before at Renji’s forwardness, when Ichigo was tackled to the bed, he instead responded with a natural enthusiasm.

“Hmm, that’s more like it,” Renji hummed, and Ichigo grinned back onto his lips and silenced him by grabbing him around the back of the head and mashing their mouths together. “Mm!”

“Stop talking,” Ichigo said amusedly, which sent Renji into a fit of laughter. Sitting up, Ichigo pushed Renji onto his back with a smug triumphant look, and, maybe surprised about his forwardness, Renji let him do what he wanted without a fight.

Clearing his throat a bit awkwardly, Ichigo’s face heated as he peeled Renji’s shirt up and sat on his lap. He avoided Renji’s eyes, but he didn’t let his shyness stop him from running his gaze and hands over Renji’s exposed torso voraciously, digging his fingers into the bulging muscles and sliding his palms heavily over the plush flesh. Ichigo licked his lips, starting to feel hot all over. He could feel Renji’s erection swelling up between them, and his own cock twitched in response as he grew excited himself.

Renji purred beneath his hands, and, encouraged by the response, Ichigo smiled a bit shakily and met his eyes, leaning down to kiss him again. Laughing against his lips, Renji flipped them and bore down on top of him, licking the side of his neck and sucking on the bottom of his ear. Moaning and quivering, Ichigo grinned when Renji pulled back and took his hands, dragging them back to his chest again.

He let his hands wander with an unpracticed interest, fascinated by the thick black trails embedded in Renji’s skin. Renji growled when he tweaked his nipples, and Ichigo bit his lip, daring to pinch and roll them under his thumbs. “Ah… Ah, Ichigo.”

“Hm?” Ichigo hummed, only to gasp breathily when Renji nabbed him by the upper arms and pinned them to the bed.

“I’m gonna’ pleasure you like mad,” Renji whispered darkly into his ear, which had Ichigo’s breath freezing in his lungs, every hair prickling as a chill ran through his whole body. Renji’s resounding laughter only half-broke the spell, Ichigo’s painfully eager reaction having broken him out of using his spooky-sexy voice.

Undressing each other feverishly during their endless rolling, Renji got Ichigo on his stomach, ripping away his pants and underwear from his legs and spreading his thighs, running his splayed hands up them and gripping his ass. When Renji pushed the cheeks apart, Ichigo turned his head to the side, face heating up. “Hey,” he stuttered a protest, still feeling a bit modest, although it wasn’t as bad as the first time.

“Don’t push your- _Hey!_ ” he gave a high-pitched yelp when Renji threw himself on his stomach and eagerly fit his face between his legs, slicking from his balls to the top of his buttcrack with his tongue. “F-” Ichigo shuddered, mortified, “Wh-”

Renji’s only response was a bone-melting hum as he nuzzled his face close and kneaded his ass on both sides with his hands, tugging him closer to the swirling, prodding, caressing motions of his tongue. Ichigo threw his head into his arms, gasping and breaking out in a sweat as Renji snuck a hand beneath him and the bed, gripping his cock, squeezing and cupping his balls, sneaking a finger into his ass as he pulled back to blow on the wet area and raise goosebumps all over his whole body.

“…! … Ah-” Ichigo choked, eyes screwed shut, his mind reeling and blank, that terrified feeling of falling unexpectedly that usually only lasted a moment going on and on, sending his heart into high gear.

Renji gave a lewd slurp, humming warmly and fingering him until his thighs were shaking uncontrollably and his body felt like it was burning up. Finally, Renji placed a kiss on either side of his ass and released him, and Ichigo took a moment or two to gasp and lay against the bed, before propping himself up on his arms.

He rolled over and glared, red-faced, but didn’t say anything. Renji gave a big teasing grin and crawled forward a bit, taking his cock in hand and bringing it to his mouth. Ichigo tried hard to keep pouting, but when Renji started sucking his cock, it was impossible. He lasted maybe four or five pumps before he fell back against the bed again, one hand holding the back of Renji’s head, cupping it and stroking his hair.

Spreading him open with his fingers, Renji hummed and huffed a laugh as he pleasured Ichigo, sucking and licking at his dick until Ichigo thought he would cum before they even started. “Renji,” he finally managed to gasp, “I’m gonna’ bust. I’m-”

“Not yet you’re not,” Renji pulled back with a raspy gasp like someone surfacing from deep water. Ichigo shuddered and lay weakly against the bed, dick twitching as if wanting to connect the string of saliva back to Renji’s lips.

“Don’t look so proud a’ yourself,” Ichigo grumbled at the sight of his smug smile. Renji wiped his mouth with his wrist and grinned wider.

“I just like what I can do ta’ you.” He eased forward into his arms, and Ichigo continued to sulk, but let Renji fit their bodies together, pressing their erections between their stomachs. Renji kissed his neck and ear and Ichigo let his hands feel out the curves and musculature of Renji’s back and hips. His first time, he’d been so nervous that he hadn’t gotten around to much exploration, but this time, Renji seemed determined to learn his body, and Ichigo felt less shy of doing so in return. He had such a nice body, and he was so handsome... 

“Hmmm,” Renji sighed, rocking them together, hair hanging around their faces in a tangled mass. He leaned in and kissed Ichigo heatedly, grinding his hips down against Ichigo’s, their hard cocks rubbing together.

“Ah,” Ichigo cried, “Ahhh,” digging his hands into the flesh of Renji’s rear and thighs, scrabbling for a grip to anchor him as Renji thrust down on him, driving him into the springy mattress. Renji hummed a laugh, coaxing a smile out of him, then attacked him in a squeeze, shaking him and tickling him a little, nipping at his neck and sending him into breathless laughter.

“You ass!”

“Hahaha.”

They threw each other around for a bit, and Renji would occasionally quit the game to take Ichigo’s erection in hand and stroke it, to kiss him and hold him close – “Quit cheating!” Ichigo yelped and shoved him down, leaping upon him. “You’re not gonna’ distract me! I was winning!”

“Pff-Hahah! Hmm,” Renji sighed as Ichigo held his arms down and kissed him. “You’re somethin’,” he grunted, rolling them and surrounding them in a whirl of red hair, his eyelashes tickling Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo smiled and fit his legs around Renji’s waist and smothered himself against Renji’s lips, soft and warm from too much kissing. They made a wet patch on the bed after a few minutes of grinding on each other and gasping, gripping and snaking their hands in front or behind to pleasure the other.

“Ready ta’ go?” Renji hummed in his ear when Ichigo was lightheaded and breathless and sealed by sweat to Renji’s hot flesh from the belly-button down. Renji’s fingers were warm and wet against his side from having been inside him for so long.

“Mhm.”

Although he said it on reflex, he was surprised to note that he _was_ ready – his body, strangely, did _feel_ ready, hot and exhausted and loose at every muscle, his heartbeat _pounding_ everywhere in anticipation, even inside. He found that… he did, he wanted them to join.

Renji peeled them apart and took a hand under Ichigo’s knees, pulling them up and then patting him on the side of his bum as he reached for their supplies. “Pick your legs up for me, sweets. Just gimme’ a sec’.”

Ichigo nodded and held back his legs with a thrilling sort of humiliation at exposing himself to Renji’s gaze. He watched as Renji slicked his hands and then reached forward to spread him with fresh lubricant, thumbs massaging lovingly around his entrance. He swallowed and licked his lips, watching as Renji put on a condom and wet it liberally. “You comfortable like that? Here, lemme’ get a pillow for your back… There. Good?”

Ichigo nodded, face hot and pink, shyly meeting Renji’s gaze – it felt _dirty_ after watching him drag his eyes from Ichigo’s splayed bottom up to his face. It was an embarrassing raw sort of excitement to see how Renji wanted him, to see on his face how he wanted to join them together. Renji was always so casual and calm about these things that Ichigo didn’t have much confidence in himself, didn’t believe in Renji’s passion for him – but how could he not in these moments, just look at Renji’s eyes…

Renji quirked his lip in an amused grin at Ichigo’s shy blush, but managed not to tease, and instead tugged at the bottom of the condom, fitting the straining rubber on a bit more snugly – Ichigo couldn’t help but imagine overstuffed sausage casing and swallowed hard. Renji slicked his erection again, tossing the lube nearby for easy access.

“Are-” Ichigo cleared his throat when his voice came out weak and strained as he watched Renji prepare. “Are we gonna’ do it the same? Same as last time, I mean.”

“We can change things up,” Renji said with a nonchalant grin, getting into position over him, “But I like to start out this way. You?” Ichigo hurriedly nodded, feeling an irrational wave of nervousness as Renji set his weight on him and kissed him.

“Okay, coming in now, please,” Renji mumbled against his mouth, and Ichigo nodded back, licking his trembling lips again, his heart rate picking up.

Renji was as careful as last night when putting it in initially. Holding his cock with one hand and leaning over him with the other, Renji slowly pressed against him. Ichigo held onto him as before, legs gripping his sides and toes curling up, but he wasn’t as scared as the first time. He grit his teeth as the pressure built against the barrier, then Renji eased his hips forward subtly, and the head of his cock penetrated him.

Clenching and releasing his muscles a few times around the impossibly thick seeming shaft of Renji’s cock, Ichigo panted and found it was much easier to relax this time, Renji sinking into him to the base with half the effort as the first time. “Look at that, you’re already a pro,” Renji hummed against his cheek, and Ichigo was too breathless to retort for a time. He just clung to him and trembled, the burning glowing aroused feeling in his stomach spurred on by the stretch of Renji’s throbbing cock spreading him open.

“Fine now,” Ichigo panted a few moments later, and Renji pecked his sideburn and began rocking into him, rolling his hips against his, the thrusts wet and taking the strength out of Ichigo’s lower back. The slow firm parting of his insides as Renji moved within him was melting his bones, that was the only way to explain the sensation of every vein filling up with liquid heat.

“Y’know?”

“What,” Ichigo blurted, wondering rather helplessly how on earth Renji always sounded so composed.

“You’ve got really cute ears,” Renji said against his ear, his lips tickling the sensitive skin. Ichigo panted and huffed, managing to reach up to pinch Renji’s nose and pull on it.

“Renji.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “Good?” Renji hummed, kissing and nipping at the tight skin of his jaw, and Ichigo nodded, eyes screwed shut.

“It’s- it’s good,” he gasped.

Renji growled out a laugh and rocked him with a couple firmer thrusts, testingly, then leaned back, sitting up on his knees and running his hands over Ichigo’s sticky chest and stomach. He petted his face with a charming smile and pushed his hair back as he hitched one of Ichigo’s legs up. Getting the idea, Ichigo lifted his leg and put his ankle over Renji’s shoulder.

Renji pushed his other thigh to the side further to be able to fit his broad hips close enough, then adjusted his leg on his shoulder, leaning forward and thrusting into him experimentally. Ichigo hadn’t realized what a change in angle could do, and seized, reaching his arms forward to grab at Renji’s shoulders. Renji grinned and bit his lip, snapping his hips forward a few times, loud sticky slaps resulting. “O-ohh.”

The rough impacts sent shocks of electricity through him, and at Ichigo’s helpless pleasure-melted expression, Renji’s smile grew and he built the strength of his thrusts one by one until he was pounding into him quite hard – not to hurt him, but rough enough to make him feel it even better. “That okay? If I go too hard…”

It wasn’t too hard – before Ichigo had thought that going harder might not feel good, might hurt, the prodding of Renji’s cock deep in his stomach might become unbearable if it wasn’t gentle enough, but now he realized that if he was turned on enough, the sharp heavy jabs against his prostate felt amazing. Unable to verbally respond, his entire body shivering and seizing in surprise, Ichigo just bit his lips and tried not to moan too much, holding onto Renji and digging his nails into his back to urge him on. Renji growled at the light scratching against his shoulders and surged down to kiss him, and when Ichigo gasped into his mouth, Renji really stuffed him.

For a while there he thought he was going to die, his brain thrown into a whirl of panic and an endless feedback loop of pleasure as Renji fucked him into an adrenaline high. He was vaguely aware of the sticky slap of their bodies together and the drag of Renji’s flesh through his, but mostly he was seized with terror and excitement – he’d never known, god he’d never known it could feel like this, that a person could feel this good, that two people could-

“Ahhh-ah,” Ichigo cried, gasping as Renji at last slowed and rocked into him more smoothly for a few strokes. He flung an arm over his sweaty forehead as Renji carefully pulled out. Letting out a long slow breath, Ichigo gasped, “Damn.” Renji laughed a bit, leaning down to kiss his wet lips. “Wow,” he whispered.

“Just what I like ta’ hear,” Renji murmured amusedly, then gently slid his hands under his shoulders, easing him to a sitting position and laying himself back as he coaxed Ichigo towards him. “Try sitting on top for a while, babe,” he invited, reaching over to reapply some lubricant and guiding Ichigo forward by the hand. Ichigo bit his lip and clumsily put his leg over Renji’s side, staggering as he seated himself on his stomach. “Yeah, right there, like that,” Renji hummed, running his hands up Ichigo’s legs and stomach. “God, you look so good like that, look at you…”

Glancing down self-consciously, Ichigo swallowed hard as Renji brought his legs up a bit, nudging him forward. Ichigo leaned down towards Renji’s face, feeling Renji reach an arm back to connect them again. Renji didn’t make much noise other than sultry hums and whatever talking he was doing at any given moment, but then he did moan as he brought his hips up to Ichigo’s rear, his hand guiding Ichigo down against his cock. Getting the idea, Ichigo reached back hurriedly and eased down slowly until he was comfortably seated against Renji’s hips. “Ohhh, fuck,” Renji breathed, hands gripping Ichigo’s waist, “that feels so good.”

Uncertainly, Ichigo rocked his hips back and forth, then bit his cheek at his mistake when Renji snuck his hands under his thighs and showed him to lift his body up and then drop his weight. “Hmm,” Renji groaned, propping himself up on his elbow to reach around Ichigo’s back and bring him down into his arms. “Shit,” he gasped, adjusting his legs and beginning to thrust up against Ichigo’s rear. “Ah, shit…”

Ichigo let his head hang against Renji’s shoulder, gasping and laying against him, trying to hold himself up with his arms the best he could. After a while of Renji slamming into him expertly, gripping his hips and sealing them together, sometimes reaching around to lick his hand and stroke Ichigo’s cock. “You okay there?” Renji mumbled amusedly in his ear.

“Sorry, just-” Ichigo gasped, trying to straighten up, and tentatively moved his hips with Renji, clumsily running his hands on his chest and neck, leaning in to kiss him.

“Aww, you’re trying so hard,” Renji hummed with a smile as Ichigo licked at his chest and squeezed it, pinched his nipples. “Just let go.” He encouraged Ichigo to sit up, laying his own arms back under his head. “Don’t think.”

Ichigo bit his lips and stalled his movements, swallowing hard, and Renji smirked heavily, as if trying not to laugh. He pointedly closed his eyes and laid an arm over his face, his other hand searching out Ichigo’s and holding it. “Don’t think about anything ‘cept us.”

He squeezed Renji’s hand back and braced himself over him with his other arm, hesitantly rocking his hips against Renji’s cock, moving himself on it. A heavy breath escaped Renji’s nose, long and heated, and Ichigo wiggled himself back and forth a little more, gaining confidence. Eventually Renji began to encourage him, gripping his hand tightly, letting his arm fall to hold him by the hip, but still keeping his eyes closed – watching Renji bite at his lower lip and seeing his stomach muscles contort and flex, strain as he moved, Ichigo found that he liked this feeling, he liked that he could make Renji feel good, even if his reactions were as small as a crease to his brow or a low grunt, Ichigo felt immensely powerful.

“God,” Renji gasped as Ichigo dared to lean down and kiss his neck as he rocked his hips amateurly, “Ah god.”

Ichigo nipped at his wet pink lip, and, giving a tight groan, Renji’s eyes snapped open, and he flipped them sharply, holding Ichigo’s wrists to the bed. Eyes dark and glittering, Renji looked down at him like a roast laid out before a starving dog, and kissed him, thrusting his hips at a feverish pace.

Lacing their hands together, Renji hummed deep in his throat when Ichigo wrapped his legs tightly around his hips and kissed him back through moans – each one jolted and cracked from the thrusts bouncing him forward and back. “I-” he tried, cutting off in a high pleasured moan as Renji worked their bodies together. “I think I’m- I’m getting the hang of this,” Ichigo said, “What do you think?”

“Definitely,” Renji laughed against his face, kissing him. “I think I need more practice though.” Grunting, he thrusted them together faster, and Ichigo broke their handhold in favor of grabbing him around the back, holding onto him as tight as he could. “Lots more,” he hummed tightly, and Ichigo let out a breathless snort, eyes wet and burning as Renji brought him over the edge.

“Ahh-” he cried, “Haah,” cumming between them, thighs quivering and squeezing Renji’s sides, his sensitive twitching erection still being bumped and crushed between their contorting bodies. Renji hummed in his ear, slowing within him as his insides involuntarily clenched like a vise with each wave of his orgasm.

Ichigo went limp beneath him, shuddering and gasping, drenched with sweat, but managed to say, “You can finish- you can…” He patted at Renji’s back, stroking the outline of his face clumsily, his vision horribly wonderfully blurred.

Renji pressed his mouth against his and gently withdrew, helping roll Ichigo’s shaky weak body over, then laid atop him, sealing them together at every inch. Ichigo moaned quietly as Renji put it in and thrust down against him, driving him into the cushy bed with shallow slaps to his back and rear. “One sec’,” Renji grunted tightly, “Getting close, just-...” Ichigo gasped and sighed as Renji lay his weight down upon him and fucked him. He gripped Ichigo under the arms to hold them together and whined lowly against the back of his head. He bit his hair and gasped in his ear, pressing his hips tightly against Ichigo’s back, pushing down against him firmly, his entire body straining to get in as far as he could as he went still – and this time, now that he knew, he _could_ feel it, he could feel Renji’s cock twitching inside him, having grown harder and absolutely _melting_ him from the inside with an intense heat.

“Haah… Ichigo,” he breathed, heaving for air, then laid his head down against Ichigo’s shoulders, remaining inside for a time as they lay gasping together. Renji tiredly took Ichigo’s hand, his arm mirroring his, and twined their wet fingers. “Hmm, Ichigo.”

Ichigo let his eyes swim dazedly, his body struggling to inflate enough to draw breath under Renji’s dead weight. He squeezed Renji’s hand back. “Ichigo… Ichigo, Ichigo,” Renji murmured softly, at last separating them, carefully, and Ichigo felt a flood of warmth trail down his thigh as the hot lube-slick condom rubbed against his bottom and leg as Renji moved away.

He waited contentedly, heartbeat radiating through his entire body, every muscle lax with satisfaction. He felt Renji’s weight dip the bed near him as he returned, and he struggled to lift his head and turn it towards Renji, to pick his arm up and drape it over Renji’s side as they faced each other.

“Ichigo… Ichi.”

“Hm?” Ichigo managed, a dreamy twitch of a smile pulling at his lip as he felt Renji nestle his head atop his, their hot feverish cheeks and noses resting together.

“I’m really glad,” Renji breathed, “I’m glad I got to come out here and do this with you.” Ichigo remembered Renji’s dream of coming to the ocean and the way he’d stared out over the water as if he’d never tire of it, the way he’d tenderly taken his hand and smiled and watched the waves with him. He thought of the way Renji had comforted him the night before, ‘you’re okay, you’re okay,’ and it suddenly _was_ okay. He thought of the way Renji held him and kissed him and loved him.

“Me too,” Ichigo whispered, shutting his eyes.

They went several times more that night, as whenever they separated and Ichigo would lay on his belly panting and sweating in exhaustion, after half an hour or so of a break, Renji would eventually begin feeling on him again, reaching a hand over to rub along his spine or grab his bottom – and then he’d get back on top of him and they'd go again.

Throughout the night, each time lasted less and less, but it seemed to grow more intense. At one point Ichigo thought he would faint, Renji’s head between his legs and his hand gripping his cock, eyes blazing into his. The sight of him slapping himself on the face and tongue with his dick put him over, and Renji still wouldn’t have pity on him, fingering him mercilessly and licking up his cum.

He made good on his promise of pleasuring him until he went insane. Ichigo didn’t know if Renji would ever finish with him – every nerve was singing, on _fire,_ and still Renji was absolutely insatiable. He only came maybe every other time Ichigo did. His stamina was truly exhausting. At the same time, he didn’t seem hurried, there was no sense of urgency to his movements, his goal seeming to be pleasure rather than orgasm.

By the end of it, Ichigo was cumming dry and was absolutely gasping for air, his skin flushed and sweaty and tears of exertion running from his eyes. At that point he was enthusiastic for Renji’s weight crushing him into the bed, and his kiss, and his sweaty fingers lacing into his, the way his broad hips fit against his and the continuous seal of flesh up the length of his back as Renji got on top of him and fucked him nearly unconscious.

He felt delirious when Renji finally rolled off him. His entire body was one pulsing thundering heartbeat, every inch of skin slick with sweat, and every last bit of strength being used to take in as much air as possible. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he felt like he’d almost died. Like that rumored sensation of euphoria one experiences after almost drowning, the moment your body gives up and is ready to die – you feel amazing. It really did feel like Renji took him to heaven.

Renji laid a cool sheet over the both of them, scooting up to him and laying a heavy hot arm over Ichigo’s back. Ichigo couldn’t move other than heaving with gasps, but he managed to quirk a smile and open an eye tiredly. Renji was breathing heavily too, and leaned forward to kiss his brow.

“Dint’ know I cud’ feel like that,” Ichigo huffed out, and Renji laughed lowly in response. “Wow,” he whispered.

“Wow for me too,” Renji agreed with a sleepy grin, and Ichigo closed his eyes, feeling accomplished knowing he’d worn Renji out too.

“Hmmm,” Renji sighed. “Sleep tight, Ichi. Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” he murmured, and Ichigo yawned, managing to snuggle his head forward against Renji’s.

“Don’t talk about bedbugs when we’re sleeping at a hotel,” he tried to reply, and he didn’t know whether he got all the words out because he was drifting off, but he did hear Renji huff a laugh into his ear, so who knows.

 

On Sunday, they had a late morning, and didn’t get out of bed until after lunch-time, snoozing together wrapped snugly in the blankets well into the afternoon. Ichigo was the first to drag himself up and take a shower, then sprawled himself across the lower half of the bed on his stomach and dicked around with the TV for a while.

Renji eventually followed suit and took a shower, and then hopped back into bed next to him. After a time, he wiggled against Ichigo a bit, nudging him to get some attention, and Ichigo kissed him good morning, pleased to find Renji had brushed his teeth too.

“Hmm, morning handsome,” Renji mumbled in reply, laying on his back next to him. Ichigo leaned down again to kiss him, propped up on his elbows, his fingers straying to Renji’s mess of hair. Straying an eye back to his cartoons, Ichigo idly played with Renji’s damp loose hair, and Renji stopped squirming, going absolutely still. Ichigo quirked a smile on one side. Renji always let him do whatever he wanted if he touched his hair, the big softie.

“Whadda’ you wanna’ do today?” Renji eventually hummed quietly, still just lying motionless as Ichigo indulged him and pet him, pulling and stroking nicely on his hair and rubbing his head.

“I guess we could go walk around some more,” Ichigo suggested. “I know you wanted to spend every day at the beach.”

Renji closed his eyes and practically purred as Ichigo rubbed at the base of his neck and pulled the hair from the roots to the ends. “We can do whatever. S’long as I’m with you, I’m good,” he said sappily.

“Quit being a loser.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll go swim again, let go of my ear!”

After a while longer lazing around and another afternoon lounging on the beach and splashing in the waves, they went down to the boardwalk and wandered along it – Renji held his hand the whole time. He’d been very loving for the whole weekend actually. Ichigo’s really felt that they’d gotten closer – and it’s not that he didn’t know Renji before, just now he really felt like he _knew_ Renji. If there had been any lingering doubts, they’d long since gone.

They ate outside on the patio of a local restaurant and discussed the merits and demerits of Mothra and Godzilla and which kaiju was better.

“Gojira is more endearing, and way more powerful, an’ I don’t care _what_ you say,” Ichigo argued, eating one-handed in order to let Renji play with his other hand – he made fun of Renji for going limp whenever he touched his hair, well, he wasn’t much better. 

“Mothra’s cuter,” Renji summed up, and checked his phone, grimacing at it.

“Cuteness plays no part in this comparison. Gojira's a national hero.”

"Didn't he make his debut by destroying Tokyo?"

"So what? He saves Japan from countless other monsters,  _like Mothra."_

“Sorry, one sec’,” Renji apologized, taking his hand away from Ichigo’s to silence his phone and then put it away. He then looked back up and smiled, “So what were you saying?”

“I don’t care if Mothra’s cute – besides, it’s not even cute,” Ichigo insisted, not willing to let the trivial point of contention drop.

“Yeah but you are,” Renji cooed, pursing his lips, and Ichigo snorted, balled up his napkin, and threw it into Renji’s face. Laughing in surprise, Renji grinned at him unabashedly, causing Ichigo to shake his head a bit and roll his eyes.

Playing with his food a bit, pushing it around and picking at it, Ichigo took a few more bites while Renji leaned on his hand and watched him with a smile. Finally he pushed his plate away with a sigh. “I wish this wasn’t the last day,” he muttered, feeling childish immediately after he said it. He dropped his eyes to his lap.

Renji rubbed his thumb over his free hand. “Me too. This’s been great. I’ll remember this forever.” Ichigo smiled at his knees, squeezing Renji’s fingers back. “But it’s not over yet – there’s still tonight.”

“Haven’t you had enough yet?” Ichigo mumbled, cheeks coloring. “After yesterday I’d think it was going to fall off.”

“To answer you – ” Renji took a breath, and then said succinctly, “No. Have you?” Ichigo pouted a bit in lieu of an answer, which just had Renji laughing some more. “C’mon, let’s go back.” Standing up, Renji leaned close to his ear, humming, “I’m gonna’ hold you till the sun rises.”

“Stop doing that,” Ichigo hissed, hunching his shoulders and glancing around, but Renji just leaned in more and rubbed his lips against his neck.

“Stop what? This?” He blew a raspberry right on Ichigo’s cheek, causing Ichigo to half-shriek and leap away, scrubbing at his face.

“You are such a bastard!”

“Hahaha.”

When they got back to the room, Renji kissed him all the way to the bed, and all the way onto it too. Finally, when Ichigo was splayed on his back, head in the pillows, sealed at the mouth with Renji in a deep kiss, Renji finally separated them and backed away a few steps onto the carpet, leaving Ichigo lying there, half-dazed.

With a grin, he slowly lifted his shirt over his head and let it drop to the ground. Ichigo gulped and propped himself up a bit, feeling somehow dirty for just watching him. He bit his lip and avoided eye contact when Renji popped the button on his jeans and unzipped them, his bulging chest and rippled stomach on open display. Renji bit his lip in a mirror reaction, grinning widely.

He lurched forward and nabbed Ichigo by the hands, laughing as he fought to pull him off the bed and into his arms. Ichigo halfheartedly tussled with him to get away, but eventually let himself be led forward. Renji kissed at his mouth and cheeks, their bodies standing with a few inches between their chests, and Ichigo let his hands rest at Renji’s hips. It felt like a natural place to rest them. He glanced down awkwardly as Renji snaked his hands down his back, fisting them in his shirt and whispering with an entirely unsexy laugh, “Take it off.”

“This is stupid,” Ichigo whispered back, but hesitantly took his shirt off when Renji backed away a step and continued taking off his clothes, facing him. Ichigo licked his lips, eyes flicking over Renji’s naked back… Shit, he’s hot…

Ichigo’s hands fumbled with his own belt, and he kept his eyes on the floor, his face on fire, because he could feel Renji’s gaze on him as he let his clothes fall away. He didn’t know how to look sexy at all, even with something like stripping, and he felt patently ridiculous – he doesn’t know how Renji is always so confident with this stuff. When Ichigo’s naked, he _feels_ naked, but Renji is as brazen as ever. He could see Renji smiling in his periphery, pausing to watch him pushing his pants down and kicking them off his feet.

Feeling weird to just stand there naked like that, Ichigo undressed and got under the covers, bundling them up to his shoulders, peeking out at Renji with a half-glare. Renji thankfully hadn’t teased him yet, but he knew he was just holding it in from the look on his face, the jerk. Sure enough, Renji eyed him with a big grin from the side of the bed, still stripping down his last bits, much slowlier now.

Ichigo felt embarrassed just looking at Renji like that in the open light, standing there without a care for modesty. Renji hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his black briefs and tugged them down a bit, revealing the patch of red hair and the top of his dick, the beginnings of the tattoos there. Ichigo could feel his eyes grow larger and larger as Renji pulled his underwear down, and finally, feeling Renji’s gaze too heavily, he let his eyes flick up to his for a brief moment, only for Renji to burst out laughing at his expression. Ichigo burrowed deeper into the bed, glaring.

Renji approached then, kicking his underwear off from around his ankles, waltzing closer, muscles glowing in the lamplight. He crouched near Ichigo’s side where he was bundled under the covers and let a hand rest on the lump he created, somewhere near his belly. “Not shy for me ta’ look at you, are ya’?”

“No.” It was silly, really it was, and Ichigo knew so, but at the start, it was always hard to be exposed. At the start, he was always sort of nervous, even though he knew what to expect now, even though he knew what Renji looked like, and Renji had seen it all before.

“Good,” Renji murmured with a smile, kissing him on the lips warmly, which eased Ichigo’s tense shoulders down from where they were up around his ears. “Take the blankets down.”

Gut clenching involuntarily, Ichigo hesitantly pushed down the covers a bit, to around his bellybutton, humiliated, but also excited. He was pleased when Renji didn’t push him further and instead kissed him as a distraction while he took the corner of the blanket and lifted it so he could climb under with him. “There,” Renji whispered, laying his body atop Ichigo’s and then rolling them sideways, the blankets resting at their hips.

“What’re you thinking about?” Renji hummed as he sucked at Ichigo’s neck, up to his ear. He could feel Renji’s warm hand sliding down his chest, bumping at their cocks where they lay together between their stomachs.

“I- Ahh, I just-” Ichigo cleared his throat as Renji’s hand ghosted along his cock, one fingertip running down its length, “I dunno’.”

Renji paused for a moment, long enough for Ichigo to collect his thoughts. “You’re not nervous are you?” Ichigo’s face soured, and Renji amended, “It’s okay if you’re a _little_ nervous.”

“Maybe a little… I just…” Ichigo cleared his throat again, looking away, but decided to share, rather quietly, “I wish I knew more of what to do… I like it when-” Still not meeting Renji’s eyes, he inched forward a bit and said into his ear. “I mean… I want you to like it too.”

Renji seemed to melt from the chest outward, curling in on himself, his face scrunching up. He clutched Ichigo’s head to his. “I _do_ like it, idiot,” he hissed, managing not to say ‘awww’, which Ichigo was endlessly thankful for. “You don’t have to do anything special.”

“But I want to,” Ichigo blurted, “I don’t want to just lay there, but I don’t know what else-”

“No, I mean,” Renji amended, placing a hand at his cheek to guide his eyes up to his, “You don’t have to do anything special. Just hold me…” He breathed against his mouth, “Kiss me, and hold me, and look at me… and think about me, that’s all you have to do. That’s all I want.”

Ichigo returned Renji’s warm kiss and let his own hand rest at the back of Renji’s head, curling his fingers into his hair. “M’kay,” he mumbled against his lips, unable to explain why that had sent butterflies all through his stomach and his throat and his hands.

Renji hummed a sigh back into his mouth, wrapping his hand through Ichigo’s to bring it down between them, placing it around both their cocks and stroking them together. Gasping, Ichigo let a little sound escape as he twined his tongue with Renji’s and let him guide their hands. “Ah,” he stuttered as Renji bit at his lip and took his hand away, leaving Ichigo’s there and running down his back, between his legs.

Ichigo tightened his hold and did his best to kiss Renji and focus on twisting his wrist as he gripped their cocks together. Rolling them slightly, Renji ended up on his back with Ichigo half-splayed on him, his hand around Ichigo’s side to reach his ass. Breaking their liplock, Ichigo panted and held himself up with one arm, their mouth still brushing as he stroked Renji’s erection, feeling the way it pulsated and warmed his hand. He teased the tip with his thumb, looking down between them to see what he was doing. Renji hummed in approval, his ring finger prodding between his buttcheeks.

Feeling rather daring, Ichigo kissed at Renji’s neck and ear and jerked him off a bit. He tried it how he did to himself, closing his hand into a fist around the head of Renji’s cock every time he ended a stroke, letting his palm rub heavily against the sensitive tip. “Is that good?” he asked tentatively in a breathless tone.

“Fuck, Ichigo,” Renji grunted, his hand stilling as he let Ichigo do what he wanted. “Fuck, you turn me on…”

A bit cowed when Renji’s hips began to thrust up into his grip, Ichigo mumbled hesitantly, “Do… Do you want me to keep going?”

“Mhm.” Renji let his arms fall away, resting up behind his head, his chest heaving with breath. Ichigo swallowed at the sight of him laid out beneath him. “Do whatever you want to me,” Renji breathed.

Ichigo just stared down at him for a time, mouth hanging, hands stalling around their erect cocks, and then Renji gave a rather breathless smirk. “If you can,” he prodded, to which Ichigo scowled and puffed himself up.

“Oh shut up,” he hissed back, but let his hands begin roaming over the dips of Renji’s flesh, the swells of his muscle, feeling a bit foolish with Renji watching him do so, but the excitement of touching Renji’s carved body began to overpower it.

“Hmm,” Renji sighed, bucking his hips against Ichigo’s rear when he pinched his nipples carefully, rolling them and pulling a bit as he ran his mouth against his chest.

“Okay?” he mumbled as he let his lips and tongue attach on one side, teasing gently with his teeth. Renji replied with rumbling growl that vibrated through his torso, his hand petting at the back of Ichigo’s head and neck.

Encouraged, Ichigo kissed down and down, landing his lips on the trail of hair on Renji’s belly, warming the flesh with his hands as his mouth traveled on. Scooting down as he went, he sat just below Renji’s knees, and finally felt Renji’s cock bumps against his chin. He held it to the side with one hand and kissed at the hot skin there, where Renji’s leg connected. Hesitantly, he flicked his eyes up to Renji, to find him still watching, and feeling every hair stand up all over his body, Ichigo stuck his tongue out just a little and uncertainly licked up the side of Renji’s cock. Renji had done this to him…

“Oh,” Renji exhaled, hips squirming, as if wanting to buck up against his face, but restraining themselves. Ichigo tried placing a sucking kiss on the shaft, and then licked the head of his cock with the flat of his tongue. Renji let his hand touch Ichigo’s cheek. “That’s enough,” he whispered, making to sit up. Ichigo frowned, moving back a bit.

“I’m not good, huh.”

“That’s not what I said,” Renji murmured as he drew Ichigo into a kiss, letting his hands grip him by the rear, squeezing and kneading. “Just kiss me for a while.” Coaxed into lying atop him, Ichigo decided there was no point thinking about it and instead let Renji hold him and kiss him deeply, his hands holding each of his thighs.

“Mmph,” Ichigo groaned uncomfortably, unable to resist pressing his hips and erection onto Renji’s hard belly a couple times, the friction unbearable. Renji laughed a bit back into his mouth and reached around behind him, thrusting his cock on his ass, letting the hot flesh rest between his asscheeks, dragging against his balls. “Hahh,” he breathed, pulling back a bit when Renji opened the nearby lube and began working his fingers into him, seeming perfectly at ease with holding the entirety of Ichigo’s weight atop him.

Pressing his hips down against Renji’s stomach again, Ichigo uneasily thought on something he’d been wondering for awhile now, but hadn’t been able to say out loud. Pushing himself up on his arms so he could look into Renji’s face, Ichigo hesitantly asked, “Can I, uh…”

Renji paused when Ichigo’s words trailed off awkwardly. “I mean, I know we haven’t talked about it before, but…” Now that Ichigo had mostly gotten over his shyness and was getting used to sex, he… well, he was a curious boy, and he wanted to try it too… Renji had said he could do anything to him, but did that mean- Would Renji let him put it in?

“I’ve never been inside,” he confessed, even though he knew that Renji already knew that. He honestly didn’t know what Renji would say, and was a bit perplexed when Renji didn’t answer immediately with his usual ease.

For a moment he thought maybe Renji hadn’t understood him, because his hands slowed and he just looked at him for a long time wordlessly, the smile he always wore when they were in bed together having fallen away from his face. He was giving Ichigo that silent thoughtful look, his brow creased.

Ichigo felt that he’d somehow misstepped, and sat back a bit, but still didn’t say anything, waiting to see what he would say. Was Renji going to let him, or would he say no? Ichigo couldn’t imagine that he didn’t do that type of thing when he was so knowledgable and passionate with everything else they did. It seemed unimaginable that the skill he had in preparing Ichigo and making him feel good there didn’t come from experience. But maybe he didn’t want to for some reason – Ichigo didn’t understand why else he would react like this.

Just as he was about to brush it off and say he’d only been kidding, they didn’t have to, Renji dropped his gaze and looked away, avoiding his eyes. Ichigo held his breath in confusion as Renji was quiet for a long long time.

Finally Renji looked back up at him, his expression easing into a bit of smile. “Alright,” he agreed, letting the smile grow wider, into its normal shape.

Ichigo perked up, excited and tingling with nerves. Renji’s really going to let him do it. Woah! He’s going to get to put it inside, holy crap.

Renji cleared his throat and pushed himself up onto his elbows, pecking Ichigo on the nose and then muttering, “You have a condom?”

“Can't… can't I just use yours?”

“Mine won’t fit you right.”

“Uh…” Ichigo tried to think, but it was hard when he’d had such a huge rush of blood from the idea of getting to put it in – shit, he’s going to get to put it in, fucking hell, he’d better have a condom somewhere.

Scrambling out of the bed, he checked his backpack frantically, unable to remember if he’d bothered to bring any or if he’d left that up to Renji. Just as he was about to despair at a lost opportunity, shaking his backpack, a metal tin fell out and bounced off the floor. Grimmjow’s mint box! Fuck, thank god.

“Yeah, I found one,” he said, surprised at the deep raspy tone to his own voice as he made it back to the bed, finding Renji had gotten out from under the covers and was laying on his stomach, head pillowed on his folded arms.

“Great. You know what to do?”

Ichigo knelt next to Renji’s legs, eyes tracing the length of his spine and the swell of his ass, tattooed and plump with muscle, and suddenly felt lost out to sea, over his head. “No,” he said shortly. Renji turned his head, resting his cheek on his forearms so he could see Ichigo.

“’Ts fine, I’ll talk you through it.” He turned his head the other way, seeming unconcerned. Ichigo furrowed his brow, a little unnerved by the way Renji seemed sapped of energy somehow, not exactly unenthusiastic, but just… he was acting weird. “Or you can figure it out on your own, if you want.”

“Tell me how,” Ichigo demanded, scooting a bit closer. He usually makes it a point to keep Renji from bossing him around, but he wants to do this right.

“M’kay,” Renji mumbled. “Make a space. Lube.” Ichigo stared for a moment, then startled into action, grabbing the lubricant and shuffling over to Renji’s legs, getting between them and rearranging Renji slightly so that his thighs were spread apart. He laid a hand on one side of Renji’s ass, letting his fingers sink into the plush flesh and move it aside. At the sight of his asshole, he thought he was going to faint from the headrush.

“…” Renji lay still for him, his breathing slow and easy. Figuring out well enough what to do next, Ichigo leaned a little closer and let some lube out on the crack of Renji’s ass, watching as it trickled down and oiled the area up, slick and shiny. Renji twitched a little and Ichigo nearly dropped the tube, fumbling with it.

“What? What?” he blurted, and Renji just sniffed and shrugged a shoulder.

“S’cold. I usually warm it up in my hands. Guess I should’a’ said.”

“Oh, sorry,” Ichigo said, putting some in his hand and rubbing his palms together. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t realized the lube was cold, and it must’ve been because Renji always warmed it first.

“Kay’,” Renji instructed, not moving from where he had his head rested and where Ichigo had arranged his legs, utterly limp. “You wanna’ rub the muscle for a while until you feel it open up. Get your fingers wet too.”

“Okay,” Ichigo obeyed, resting one hand on Renji’s bottom, holding out his fingers with the other and letting them rest in the pool of lubricant at the top of his buttcrack, pleased to find the flesh warm and slippery. He slowly let them move down over the little bump of Renji’s entrance, surprised at how soft it was. Renji didn’t react at all at the touch, and Ichigo figured out on his own to press and rub around the edges with his thumbs, up and down and around, and saw after almost no time at all that the area widened and loosened up somehow.

“Like that?”

“Mhm. Put ‘em in now.” Ichigo nodded, even though he knew Renji couldn’t see, and he swallowed hard, lining a finger up, feeling apprehensive to put it inside. Renji didn’t say anything about his long pause, still breathing easily as ever, his head faced away.

“Okay, coming in…” Ichigo pressed his finger there, worming the tip into the opening and then pushing in slickly. It went in easier than he’d expected, meeting almost no resistance at all, and he let his mouth fall open at the soft heated flesh gripping his finger from all sides, beating like a metronome with Renji’s pulse. “Hhhah,” he breathed, flexing his finger with difficulty and pushed it in and out a bit. “This okay?” Renji hadn’t reacted when he’d put it in, almost like he hadn’t felt it at all, but he did make a noise in response to his question.

He put his finger in and out for a time, not knowing much else to do. Renji always made it feel… _interesting,_ enough to drive him insane with the teasing to his sensitive parts, but Ichigo didn’t know how to do that to Renji in return. “How do I…” He cleared his throat when his voice cracked. Shit, he was really excited. “How do I know when to put in two?”

“M’ready now,” Renji replied, voice normal, “Go ahead.”

“D’you like this?” Ichigo wondered, pulling his hand back enough to try and push another finger in along with the first.

“Mhm,” Renji hummed back, then said, “Lube,” immediately as Ichigo began trying and met some resistance, although he didn’t flinch. Ichigo reapplied some on his hand and tried again, the abrasiveness having abated and his fingers gliding inside easily.

He repeated this until he could get three fingers in, by then panting and sweating with excitement, feeling hot all over, with Renji laying much the same, almost leisurely. At last Renji said he was ready and he can put it in now, and Ichigo sat back a bit, squatting on his heels and reaching for his altoids.

He swallowed as he opened the cover, looking down into the tin and fishing a square aluminum package out. He tore the top off in a strip, ripping the foil and pulling out the little wet rubber ring, feeling it in his hand almost curiously. He’s never put one of these on before, or even opened one.

“Remember to pinch the tip.”

“Huh?” Ichigo looked up, his throat tight with nerves and anticipation.

“You know, hold the top when you put it on, so there’s a space,” Renji said, and Ichigo felt incredibly dumb.  
  
“... How come?”

“You need some room in case you cum with it on.” Ichigo flushed, it not even having occurred to him that his cum would of course have to go _somewhere._   
  
“Oh.”

Turning it around a few times until he figured he should put the rolled part facing outwards, Ichigo placed it at the tip of his cock and fit it on, then unrolled it. Putting on a condom for the first time, he got this odd flashback to when he’d jacked off into a sock in his early teen years.

He lubes the outside of the condom as Renji reminded him, and then moved onto Renji, straddling his thighs and leaning over him to kiss at the back of his neck, seeing that Renji’s eyes were sweetly closed, his head still pillowed on his arms. He looked so soft and lovely like that, with his hair down and his eyes shut, his lips parted.

Resting his hips against Renji’s rear, Ichigo had the sudden thought that he wouldn’t know if he was doing a good job. He had no way of knowing one way or another. What if Renji hated it? What if he put it in and it was bad? What if _he_ was bad? Shit, he was really excited, but fucking hell, he’s nervous just as much.

“Can you, uh…” he mumbled into Renji’s hair, where his ear was, “Can you turn over?”

Renji did, wordlessly, rolling onto his back, his knees apart to make a space for him, and Ichigo swallowed as he looked down at him and lowered himself into his arms. Renji was only half-hard, and had an unreadable expression on his face. He wasn’t smiling – was Renji nervous too?

“Go ahead,” he told him, and he took Ichigo’s face in his hands and kissed him, and Ichigo’s racing heart pounded in his ears as he closed his eyes and kissed back, Renji’s big warm chest pressing against his.

Ichigo cleared his throat as he was released, and he awkwardly adjusted his hips and glanced down, red-faced, to where he was about to do the deed. He placed his hand there, holding his cock, his other arm braced against the mattress at the side of Renji’s head, then said hesitantly, “Um… here I go.”

His throat tightening up in excitement and dread, he leaned in, pressing his hips forward. It was surprisingly easy to get inside, and once he did, everything else seemed to go away, except Renji. The heat and pressure hugging his cock was unimaginably nice, and he slid in with little resistance.

Collapsing forward on his elbows, breathless, Ichigo held himself over Renji, trembling all over. Renji held his face against him, a firm hand at the back of his neck. He was really quiet, but seemed calm; he didn’t look like he was hurt at all, which was good, because Ichigo hadn’t been as slow and careful as he’d meant to be. _His dick felt so good._

“You,” Ichigo gasped, sure he was red in the face and the neck and the chest, from how hot and sweaty he already felt, “You okay? Did I do okay?” Oh, it was… it was good, it was really good. He hadn’t known it was this _amazing._ It feels so nice to be inside, so so nice.

“Should I stop? Is it bad?”

“…” Renji’s lip quirked in a tiny smile as he met Ichigo’s eyes. “No," he said. "No, it’s not bad.” He drew him into a warm kiss, letting his long muscled legs lift onto Ichigo’s hips and wrap there. His arms squeezed him around the back, one hand at the back of his head, and for a moment Ichigo was overwhelmed, feeling like he was being swallowed, _drowned_ in Renji on all sides, like they were spilling together.

“I’ll start now,” he whispered onto Renji’s lips, feeling shaky all over from pleasure and from holding Renji so close like this. He’d never known he could feel like this for somebody, that you could be this close, that you could feel so much.

“Kay’,” Renji mumbled back, smiling a little bit more, letting their lips brush together. Ichigo pushed himself up a bit on his arms, letting his head hang so their foreheads and noses could brush together, and tried moving his hips in. Immediately he almost staggered at the shock of pleasure sent through him at the friction. Renji let out a quiet sigh in response to his startled moan.

A hand braced on the bed on either side of Renji’s head, his forearms brushing Renji’s shoulders, Ichigo rocked against him a bit, anxiously looking into Renji’s face. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling steadily, his expression so relaxed that he could almost be asleep. Ichigo leaned down to kiss him on the lips, pleased when Renji kissed back and held their faces together. “It’s good,” Ichigo gasped, pressing his hips forward in small movements. “It feels- feels really good.”

Renji hummed a content noise in his ear, breathing against his cheek, and let his arms rest on Ichigo’s shoulders. Ichigo half-sat up, intent on trying to start, _really_ start – he thinks he can move for a while without blowing it right away.

He thrusted timidly, young, eager, uncoordinated thrusts. “Ohh,” he breathed, moving his hips forward and back with none of the smoothness or confidence that came with experience, but he was trying his hardest, “Oh.”

Renji let his head fall back, languishing in the pillows, his thick corded throat borne for him on one side, his eyes closed again. Ichigo could see him swallow, his throat bobbing and making the tattoo on the side of his neck dance. His hair was splayed out beneath him in an artful mess, and the quiet calm way he lay there with just a hint of sweat at his brow, his chest, the bridge of his nose – he was so docile, lying there under his hands, in his arms, letting him in.

“Renji,” he tried, because he’d like Renji to look at him a little bit at least, and Renji did open an eye for a moment to glance at him, his lips parted. Ichigo leaned in to kiss at his ear and neck, his cheek, then his lips, like Renji sometimes did to him, and Renji responded.

“Ahh, Renji,” Ichigo whispered tightly, moving a bit more, his arms beginning to shake where he held himself up. Renji’s hands had moved to the small of his back, thumbs rubbing small circles there and warming his sticky skin. He felt like he was on fire, he felt like he would explode- “Renji, ah god-”

He tried to stop, he really did, but he couldn’t somehow, and was seized with surprise when he found himself frozen against Renji, every muscle locked and then bursting with pleasure as he orgasmed. Staggering, his shoulders nearly buckled, but luckily he somehow held himself up and didn’t crack his head down onto Renji’s, but he did tremble all over and gape with an open mouth, vision blurring. He thinks saliva maybe dripped from his lips, and he could certainly feel that his eyes were wet and warm in the corners – fuck, he felt so good.

It’s fast though, and soon enough he was gasping and staring back down into Renji’s face, seeing that his eyes were open again and looking back into his in a sort of blank state, one that occurs moments before the instance of recognition. They seemed to realize it at the same time, because Ichigo nearly jumped out of his skin, scrambling to a sitting position, aghast.

“Sorry, I-” he blurted, red-faced and mortified. _“Sorry!”_ He didn’t know what to do, he was so sensitive that he doesn’t think he can take it out. He can feel that the condom is wet and slippery on the inside, and shit- he came so fast, and left Renji unsatisfied. _Dishonor, shame, fuck, he’s so humiliated._

Renji looked at him for a moment longer and then suddenly snorted, this smile that had been absent for the most of Ichigo’s first try spreading over his mouth and brightening his face back up to its usual luminance. And he laughed – he laughed and laughed until he was holding his stomach and Ichigo was hanging his head and covering his face with his hands.

“Stop it!” Ichigo finally shouted, “I couldn’t hold it!” Renji quieted to a low chuckle, shaking his head at him.

“I oughtta’ give you so much shit,” he mumbled, but didn’t say anything more. “Take it out slow,” he said, and Ichigo did, holding the condom on until he got all the way out. Renji sat up a bit, still smiling halfway, this amused thing that was trying not to burst into peals of laughter again, and Ichigo just avoided his gaze and scowled, face glowing.

After he’d finally succeeded in tying the condom in a knot – which was harder than it looked, considering Ichigo could barely tie a regular balloon that _wasn’t_ slick with cum and lubricant – Renji opened his arms to him. “C’mere,” he beckoned, “gimme’ back the wheel,” he joked, and sunk Ichigo into the bed, getting on top of him and kissing him with a warm hum and just a bit of a laugh still in his breath.

“You think you’re funny,” Ichigo sulked, “but you’re not,” he mumbled, but ceded to the kiss and Renji’s renewed laughing.

Renji was different that time – he was careful every time of course, but this time he dragged it out, he was slow, he was romantic, he kissed him like he was fragile, unimaginably precious, and once Ichigo was ready, he put it inside and stared him down with the most passionate, fiery, intense look in his eyes.

Ichigo did everything he could think to do past the blinding heights of pleasure Renji drove him to, what with the way he was practically torturing his erogenous zones; he held Renji, he kissed him, if not a bit clumsily, and he tried to keep his eyes open as much as he could.

Leaning above him on one elbow, Renji was settled between his widely splayed legs, driving his cock into him at a maddeningly steady pace. In a pause, he let his thrusts slow, and although he didn’t say anything just then, he suddenly somehow drew Ichigo’s attention. Letting his movements come to a stop, he took Ichigo’s hand and gazed into his eyes, his hair hanging down around them on the left like a curtain. Ichigo breathed heavily into the space between them as they lay together, Renji’s weight pressing him down and the place they connected throbbing with heat. Renji brought Ichigo’s hand towards his chest and held it over his heart, and the look in his eyes…

He settled his face against Ichigo’s, resting his brow at Ichigo’s forehead. The slow warm pulse at his palm made him sure that the thrilling amazingly beautiful thing he was feeling, Renji was feeling it too.

 

. . .

 

Ichigo dozed for a while in the dark, thoroughly sated and quite comfortable. He and Renji had cleaned up and dressed for bed and tucked each other in under the plush comforter some time ago and then he’d drifted off, but after a few hours, he realized through his warm sleepy haze that his bedmate was absent.

Barely awake, he blinked a bit and thought he could make out Renji nearby, out of reach. Blinking a bit more, he could see Renji sitting up on the opposite edge of the bed, his bare torso and face illuminated. He stared down at his phone and pulled on his bangs.

Ichigo tried to reach out his arm to him, but his lids slipped closed in exhaustion just as he saw Renji’s head snap up and around towards him. He mumbled something, tried to tell him to come back and hold him, and he felt Renji slipping under the covers against him and holding him, clutching him very tight against him. The beat of Renji’s heart was quick and hard, pounding against Ichigo’s ear, and he could feel Renji’s face pressing against his head, digging into it.

 

Ichigo fell asleep.


	20. Ichigo in Denial

_If you should ever leave me, though life would still go on, believe me, the world could show nothing to me, so what good would living do me?_  
  
. . .

 

They kissed goodbye in the parking lot when they got back from their trip Monday afternoon and parted ways. The drive back had been fun. Renji had put on his favorite _Wham!_ CDs and sang and put all the windows down and held his hand all the way back. Ichigo would keep the sight of him in his sunglasses, sun glowing warmly on his bare arms, hair whipping around wildly in the wind – he’d keep that memory for a rainy day.

Maybe it had just been getting away for a few days, or maybe it had been the natural result of spending so much time basking in the affection of a lover, but Ichigo felt really up. He hummed to himself and didn’t even bother scowling as he carried his stuff up to the dorm. He let himself into the room, found it empty, and thankfully, not much different from how he’d left it. He’d had a thought that Grimmjow might’ve torn it up as a show of protest at his little weekend excursion, but nothing looked broken or missing – except Grimmjow, that is.

Figuring he’d see him later, Ichigo threw his backpack on the floor next to his bed and gathered all his dirty laundry and a dryer sheet, stripped the mattress, washed all his stuff, and then put all his freshly washed clothes away and remade his bed. Afterwards, he put a couple more things away and got his laptop out, sat at his desk, and dicked around on his computer for a while with some tunes on.

About twenty peaceful minutes went past when Ichigo frowned and tapped at one of his earbuds, took it out to squint at it, then realized that the mysterious noise was someone stomping down the hallway and hollering shit.  


“Oi! _Oi,_ _Kurosaki_ , you shitstain! I know you can hear me! Ven aquí!”

  
Ichigo put a hand to his eyes, sighing. Akon was going to be on his ass for this one.

Grimmjow kicked open the door and stood there in the doorway for a moment, glaring and heaving. Ichigo turned in his chair and stared back at him mildly. They just looked at each other for a moment, and Grimmjow scowled sourly, eyes narrowing to a squint.

“You know, they say you can hear a lion roar from five miles away.”

“Fuck you! I thought you were coming back Sunday night.” Grimmjow gave him another heated glare and then sauntered into the room, kicking the door shut behind him and tossing himself on his bed.

“Yes, hi, I’m back,” Ichigo agreed, turning back to his laptop.

“’S that all you’re gonna’ say?”

“You wanna’ talk?” Ichigo looked over his shoulder to see Grimmjow still squinting at him. “… So what’d _you_ do this weekend?”

“Cállate! None’a’ your fucking business,” Grimmjow spat, to which Ichigo huffed and rolled his eyes. “Puto culo,” he muttered.

“Gurashiasu,” Ichigo replied, to which Grimmjow hissed never to do that again. “Then don’t say shit I don’t understand.” Grimmjow flipped him the bird.

“I got a class in a few, but after that, I guess, if you wanted, we could do something…?” Grimmjow was silent at that, and Ichigo looked around at him after a moment to find him squinting hard and glaring, lips pursed.

“… You tryin’a’ fuck wi’ me?”

“Nah, wanna’ do something?”

“… Like what?”

“Geez, you don’t have to sound so suspicious,” Ichigo muttered, but stood and gathered his backpack. “Be back. Get whatever you wanna’ do ready. Or nothin’. You don’t have to. Up ta’ you.” He would though, Ichigo knew he would. Grimmjow just needed an hour or so to realize it so he’d stop being a total douche.  


“Whatever.”

  
He had about a three and half hour reprieve from Grimmjow to go to class, but sure enough, when he came back, Grimmjow was waiting for him with a shitton of beer and some over the top slasher films. “You’re so much of a wuss, you probly’ don’t wanna’ go out,” Grimmjow explained needlessly, “so I _guess_ we can stay in or whatever.”

“Fine.” Ichigo smartly didn’t mention that Grimmjow was full of bullshit and counted it as a victory when they sat together peacefully and ate a pizza and watched a bunch of people get murdered.

“Dude, enough! I’m gonna’ barf!” Ichigo finally said, both of them half-sloshed and startling every time the murderer jumped out, although Grimmjow just kept pretending he was coughing.

“Don’t say barf!” Grimmjow shouted back, holding his stomach. There was another gruesome disemboweling and Ichigo held his hands up. Startled, Grimmjow cursed, “Mierda!”

“OH F- Turn it off! Turn it off! This one’s too intense!”

“Mother shitting fuck!”

“Aw! I thought they were gonna’ be _campy_ slasher movies! Dude, turn it off!”  
  
“So,” Grimmjow said as he awkwardly bent forward over his distended gut and his open pants to tap the DVD player, inconveniently pausing on a face with its eyes gouged out. “Ah, shit,” he griped, banging the top of it when it wouldn’t spit the disc out.

“So what?” Ichigo asked, unzipping his own pants and yawning into his elbow.

“So nothing. I didn’t say shit,” Grimmjow grumbled, and Ichigo just huffed to himself. He would never understand the nuances of this guy’s personality.

Taking a wild guess, Ichigo muttered, “You have fun this weekend? You go to any raves?”  


“No, damnit!” Grimmjow cursed.  


“Out with the gang then?”  


“No! Why do you always think that?!”  
  
  
“Well you don’t do anything else.”  


“There’s shit you don’t know about me, Ichigo!”  


Ichigo snorted and rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything, y’know, to let Grimmjow feel like he’d won this one.  


“Didn’t see Jerkface come back with you.”  


“Hm? Who?”  


Grimmjow gave him a deadpan glare, which made Ichigo groan. He seriously was getting tired of Grimmjow’s stupid jealous fuckery. He got the feeling that Grimmjow didn’t like him to get any happiness from any relationship that didn’t involve him, although he sure didn’t make a consistent effort to be nice to him anyways even when he _did_ have him all to himself.

“Why would he ‘uv come back with me anyway? He has his own room, y’know.”

“You were together a shitton before.”

“What does that mean?” Ichigo tested, narrowing his eyes, but Grimmjow just narrowed his right back.

“Exactly the fuck what I just said.”

Ichigo glared, a bit fed up, but still mostly lenient after having a weekend break from this bullshit. He already knew that Grimmjow had thought this was a bad idea, having changed his mind once his plan of Ichigo getting together with Renji had actually started to work. He knew what Grimmjow thought of Renji from the numerous rumors he’d propagated, particularly the one that guaranteed that he would be hit and then quit.

“It’s been _one day._ Not _even_ one day! We _just_ got back, why the _hell_ would he be over here? I’m sure he’s got shit to take care of, and so do I! I spent all day putting my stuff back.” Grimmjow just grunted at him, and Ichigo rolled his eyes, groaning.

“Are you saying he doesn’t wanna’ hang out now? If you’re going to say something, then say it.”

“I’m not sayin’ shit – _you’re_ the one who won’t fucking shut up!”

“You don’t know Renji,” he said with utter confidence, because Grimmjow didn’t know Renji like he did. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He thought that he knew better than Ichigo did on pretty much every subject, but he was wrong here. Renji was a good person with a good heart, and Grimmjow was only speaking out of jealousy, out of emotion, not fact. He wasn’t going to convince Ichigo otherwise. “We like each other… so… so get used to it!”

“Whatever. Fine. Just stop already, fuck, you’re annoying.”

Feeling satisfied and somewhat self-righteous at having voiced his indignation and gotten Grimmjow to seemingly… back down? – Ichigo pursed his lips, but settled back into the couch and watched as Grimmjow hooked up his game and tossed him a set of controls.

Their feet on the coffee table amid several discarded food containers, they forgot their argument as they always did in favor of new ones, mercilessly blue-shelling each other and cursing and trying to elbow each other off the couch – and as always, after time apart in which Grimmjow would be temporarily more bearable, Ichigo remembered why he sometimes missed the guy.

The next few days were much the same. Grimmjow spent more time in the dorm than usual – he was there pretty much every time Ichigo came back from class, and he knew it was so that they could spend time together, although Grimmjow would probably literally rather die than say so. They hung out for most of the week; Grimmjow even taught him how to play his favorite game and let him in his usual raid team even though he was an amateur and dragged them down. Grimm spent most of his time screaming into the headset at his douchey friends who kept bullying Ichigo through the mic system when he fucked up. It was actually funny to see Grimmjow get mad at other people; he swore really creatively.

It actually might’ve been a blessing in disguise that Grimmjow was so predictably starving for his company – although he had a weird way of showing it – because Ichigo didn’t hear much from Renji for some time. Maybe it was just Ichigo overthinking things, but Renji had grown sort of distant over the last few days. It wasn’t like Ichigo wasn’t trying enough either, Renji just took a long time to answer his texts, and when he did, it was with short dismissive answers, and although Ichigo suggested they meet up several times, Renji never seemed available. He’d known from the start that Renji’s life was insanely busy and that just because they were together now didn’t mean he was going to stop doing all those things that had brought him joy beforehand, but Renji had always seemed willing to make time for him no matter how difficult it’d be. Maybe it was just a bad time.

Anyway, the point was, he had Grimmjow to occupy his time and keep him from thinking too hard on it.

Finally one afternoon he was lying on his back in bed while Grimmjow shuffled the deck to their game, and he’d frowned at his phone for such a long time that Grimmjow got it in his head to comment.

“Dropped you that quick,” was all he said, not even bothering to raise the statement to make it a question. Ichigo sat up, annoyed at his knowing tone.

 _“No,”_ he said firmly. “He’s only busy. It happens.” Grimmjow snorted. “It does! I knew when we got together that he has a busy life. Just because he’s with me now doesn’t mean he’s going to stop doing the stuff he likes. I don’t _want_ him to give up stuff.”

“Fine, jeesh, I was just saying. Doesn’t mean I wanna’ _talk_ about it. God, you sure carry on about this douche – and he doesn’t even fucking call you.”

“Renji’s not a douche. And he _will call.”_ Grimmjow shrugged.

“Whatever, get down here an’ let’s start. You’re the humans.”

“I know,” Ichigo said, and they left it there, but the steely look to Grimmjow’s eyes was so _knowing_ that when Ichigo shut his phone off and put it under his pillow, he had a moment of doubt, his fingers lingering on it.

He dismissed Grimmjow’s bullshit as always, but that time, it wasn’t immediate. He had a moment or two where he considered that there might be a grain of truth in it, that perhaps, maybe not in whole, but at least in part, Grimmjow could be right.

It did seem that Renji was avoiding him rather suddenly after they’d had sex together. It was true that he’d been distant, but that couldn’t mean… no, no, it wasn’t true. Renji wasn’t like that. The connection they’d had over that weekend had been real;  _meaningful_ _._ Ichigo had felt it. Whatever Grimmjow thought about it having been an elaborate scheme to trick him into thinking Renji cared about him just so he could fuck him, that was insane. Ichigo had felt Renji’s heart, and there was no trick, no scheme. That had been _real,_ what they’d had.

Secure again in his convictions, Ichigo slept easily when the nights ended without Renji texting him back, but of course, he did begin to get a little lonely for Renji. He had other things to occupy his time – Grimmjow for example, seemed glad that he was back, judging from the way that he hadn’t done or said much to tick him off for like five days now. He’d been squinting at him for the last three of those days though, and it was starting to get annoying.

On a Saturday morning when Ichigo was lounging around on his bed with his laptop on his stomach, Grimmjow wandered from the bathroom to the kitchen and drank some milk out of the carton. “Hey, what’re you doing today?” Grimmjow grunted back unintelligibly. “You gonna’ be here? Can I get Renji to come around later?”

Grimmjow gave him a sharp glare. “… Didn’t you guys just go away ta’ fuck?” he muttered.

Refusing to get embarrassed, because it was a natural urge to want to have sex with the person you like and there was nothing to be ashamed about, Ichigo sputtered indignantly, “Pf- So?!”

“What?!” Grimmjow turned around, squinting more.

“What’s the matter with it? You have a problem?!” Ichigo demanded, “… And what the fuck is wrong with your face?! Why do you keep doing that?!”

“You’re fuckin’ loco. I’m not doing anything ta’ you.”

Ichigo huffed through his nose and glared at Grimmjow’s back as he rummaged for bread, wearing only his sweatpants. “So… can he come over then?”

“You don’t have ta’ spend every minute together,” Grimmjow grumbled, “It’s gross.”

“I like Renji.”

Grimmjow shot a look over his shoulder. “Well I don’t. So you’d better hope I don’t see’m.”

Ichigo shut his laptop and stood up to stretch. “Put it in your rage cage,” he dismissed, disregarding Grimmjow’s usual threats of violence.

“Whatever, just keep him the fuck away from me.”

“Fine, geez,” Ichigo hummed, getting his phone out, asking Renji if he wanted to hang out. He expected he wouldn’t get an answer for another while or so, but to his surprise, Renji replied almost right away, as he’d used to.

 _‘Yeah, I wanna’ see you,’_ Ichigo read, and smiled to himself in self-assurement. He’d been right all along. These past few days have just been busy and Grimmjow didn’t know what he was talking about.

Ichigo was about to shoot back that Renji should come over and hang out in an hour or so, but a second message from Renji directed Ichigo to meet him in twenty minutes by the quad.

After changing clothes, Ichigo went out and went down to the quad, finding Renji standing around with his hands in his pockets. “Hey!” he greeted, to which Renji replied with a smile and greeting of his own, but didn’t walk up to him, leaving Ichigo to close the distance. It was a perfectly amiable and acceptable way of meeting one’s boyfriend, but it wasn’t Renji’s usual MO. Usually Renji bounded up to him and was enthusiastic to see him, not just mildly happy.

Again, there was a moment of confusion where Ichigo second-guessed himself. Maybe he was just nitpicking. Renji was probably just tired, and even if that wasn’t the case, he couldn’t expect Renji to get super excited to see him _forever,_ right? The butterflies of new love fade with time, don’t they?

“So, what do you wanna’ do?” Ichigo wondered, after clearing his throat.

“Ahh, I just feel like chilling out today. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, whatever’s cool,” Ichigo assured, mostly just happy that they were actually together. It felt like ages since they’d seen each other. Renji smiled a little wider at his probably obvious enthusiasm and suggested they walk through the park, then offered his hand out, and Ichigo’s earlier fears were assuaged.

They walked hand in hand and talked together, and after a while, Ichigo couldn’t help but feel something was different. Renji wasn’t quite putting him off or acting dismissive, but he did seem unusually subdued. He smiled as always, but he had less to say, and he didn’t look at Ichigo as much. He seemed nervous too. His ponytail looked pulled really tight and his eyes shifted all over as they walked. It all was slight enough, however, that Ichigo couldn’t bring himself to say anything, wondering if it was all in his head – all of which left him with a vague sense of dissatisfaction.

He didn’t understand. It was a gorgeous sunny day, the air was crisp and chilled and the grass was green and glowing from the sun and the dappled clouds. They’d had fun on days like this together before, Renji has laughed with him and charmed him and sent his spirits soaring on days like this, and it seemed wrong somehow that there was this pervasive _thing_ there now that had crawled between them _._ He doesn’t understand why things feel different. Ichigo swallowed, feeling a tiny bit of doubt sneak back in. What’s happened? Has something happened?

Finally, Renji let out a sigh as they headed to a secluded gazebo that had a porch swing chained to the ceiling, perfect for lovers to enjoy in the summer. Ichigo put his cold hand in his pocket when Renji released it and used the other to dust dead leaves off the seat, and sat down.

Renji stood at the entrance and looked out at the sunny park and smoked for a couple minutes. Ichigo frowned, but watched him in silence, not bothering to rock the bench.

At last, Renji put out his stub and slid it back into the box, but didn’t turn around, simply leaning against the archway with his arms crossed, rubbing his head on the post.

“I thought you quit,” Ichigo noted.

“I don’t need ta’ hear it right now, okay?” Renji huffed back, tone just thorny enough that Ichigo wrinkled his nose in confusion and a bit of indignance.

“… What bit you in the ass?”

“Nothing, just fuck off,” Renji snapped, tone high and strung tight with defensiveness.

Ichigo just stared with his mouth open for a moment, because he knew he didn’t deserve this, whatever this was. He hadn’t done anything to merit Renji lashing out at him. He _knows_ he hadn’t.  


“… What the fuck, Renji?”  


Renji turned at that, lips parted, expression immediately drained and clenched with regret and exhaustion. He sighed deeply, taking a few steps towards him. “Look,” he apologized, “I didn’t mean that shit.” Ichigo bit at the inside of his cheek and just kept looking at him in helpless confusion, feeling slighted. “I’m just stressed out,” Renji explained, moving to sit beside him on the swing and put his arm around him.

He pressed his face against Ichigo’s head, grinding his mouth and nose into his hair as he held him. “I didn’t mean that,” he repeated. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

Ichigo separated them, his heart immediately opening up in concern and worry. What’s happened to work him up so badly? He moved back a little, letting Renji keep his arm around him, and looked into his face to try to read his eyes.

He knew that usually Renji was very talkative and eager to share anything and everything, but of course, when he was genuinely upset, he clammed up, so rather than press too hard, Ichigo inquired rather benignly, “What’s up?” Renji looked away immediately, and Ichigo prodded a bit more, “You okay?”

Renji gave another sigh, “Ahh, yeah. I’m just goin’ through some stuff.” He didn’t clarify further, and didn’t look back at him again.

“… You feel like talkin’?”

He must have nudged a little too far, because Renji took his arm away with a huff and a grunt, and grumbled, “No, I don’t wanna’ fucking talk.” His expression growing belligerent and irritated, he began raising his voice, going on to say, “I don’t hang out with you ta’ fuckin’ _talk.”_

Okay, that was a little hurtful. Fuck, he was just trying to help, and his own defensive reaction was to get a little snarly in return. “You afraid ta’ _talk_ now?”

“Afraid?!” Renji barked, glaring at him, his fists coiling, and Ichigo just shook his head in utter confusion.

“Dude, why’re you bein’ a dick?” he demanded flatly. Renji huffed through his nose and stared forward again, but continued glaring.

“You’re insane,” he grunted, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’ve lost it.”

“Oh yeah?” Renji challenged.

“Yeah?” Ichigo gave an incredulous laugh, “I ask if you wanna’ talk about whatever crawled up your ass and died and you fucking explode.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like talking, okay?!” Renji burst, and Ichigo shrunk back. “Did that ever occur to you? Maybe I don’t wanna’ tell you every single _fucking_ thing that bugs me,” he raged, “Maybe I don’t want – to fucking – talk!”

Ichigo flinched back when Renji got in his face, feeling a sudden bitter sadness well up inside of him – why, what did he do, why was Renji angry at him, please don’t stop liking him, what did he do?

He looked down at his lap and swallowed hard. “… What’s so wrong with talking?” he mumbled, feeling small and stupid.

Renji took a deep breath and exhaled, expression softening and growing sad again. “I dunno’,” he said, “You’re right.” He chewed on his lip a little, dug his hands into his eyes and sighed again, “I didn’t mean that. It’s not you I’m mad at.” He looked out at the park again tiredly. “I dunno’ what I’m yellin’ at you for.”

Ichigo swallowed again, feeling the urge to reach out and hold him, comfort him. “… Renji…”

“I’m sorry,” Renji said, turning to him and shaking his head, “M’sorry.”

A bit more cautiously, but with an attitude of forgiveness, Ichigo noted, “You know you can talk to me about anything.” At Renji’s shamefaced silence, he went on to say more lightheartedly, “I might give you shit, but if it’s that serious, I won’t make funna’ you.”

“Yeah,” Renji considered, “… Okay.”

Ichigo watched as Renji shifted uncomfortably, but leaned back. Finally, after a silent struggle, Renji warned lowly, “This is personal.”

At that, Ichigo began to grow seriously concerned. “Renji,” he tried, “What’s this about?”

Renji’s mouth contorted, but the rest of his body held deathly still with tension. “Kuchiki,” he said shortly, after a long silence, as if it took a lot to even admit. Immediately, his body seemed to deflate and sag, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead in his hand. “… He an’ I do _not_ get along.”

“How do you mean?” Ichigo wondered cautiously.

Almost hysterically, Renji loudly complained, “All he ever does, he does to _humiliate_ me!”

Ichigo raised a skeptical eyebrow then. “C’mon,” was all he said, and Renji huffed and straightened up.

“That’s how it feels sometimes…” Rubbing his shoulder against Ichigo’s and pushing his foot against the ground to rock the swing a bit, Renji shared frustratedly, “Y’know he used to purposely call on me an’ make me read aloud to the class ‘cause he knows I’m really dyslexic?” Indignantly, Renji grit his teeth and grumbled, _“Bas-_ tard.”

“That is pretty shitty…”

“Wanted ta’ embarrass me enough that I’d give up,” Renji continued, huffing and shaking his head, fully opening up into full-on ranting. Ichigo’s brow clenched, because although he knew Rukia’s brother was a tightwad, this sounded straight up unprofessional and kind of… _mean._

“Wouldn’t give me the grade I deserved, called me out in front a’ the class like five times per semester,” Renji listed, and then, growing really upset, he growled, “It didn’t matter how hard I worked either – I’m always lazy, I’m always a good-for nothing slacker wasting a seat, I’m always _stupid._ Nothing I could ever do would impress him.” Renji pulled on his bandanna, scowling, his lip jutting out defiantly.

With a dismissive breathy sigh, Renji went on, “Anyway, he quit doin’ most’a’ that stuff once I qualified for the honors society, but now he just does whatever he can ta’ rip me to shreds. No matter how hard I work on a paper, there’s always something wrong with it. Any reason he can find to keep me after class an’ make me feel two inches tall – it’s fuckin’ bullshit.”

“This sounds like more than hating a shitty teacher,” Ichigo noted, troubled. Renji had said it was personal, after all.

Renji grunted in response, arms folded, and Ichigo played with the ends of his hair a little, because it always calmed him down. Renji didn’t quit scowling, but he did sort of go limp and lean towards him, head thumping down on his shoulder with another frustrated grunt.

“Yeah… I guess,” he admitted.

Ichigo would’ve been content to sit in silence until Renji felt sufficiently comforted, figuring that he’d dragged enough out of him, but apparently, once he’d gotten himself talking, he had to get it all out – because after a few moments, he started up again.

“You know he adopted Rukia when we were younger, right?” His tone was drained now, the anger having seeped away to leave a sad exhaustion. “I dunno’,” he sighed, “I guess I’ve always felt like he took her away from me, put her in a place where I can’t reach her an’ be her friend anymore.”

A hopeless laugh escaping, he muttered, “I’ve spent like, the last _ten years_ trying to catch up to him, but he’s just too far away.” Gritting his teeth, Renji went on to grumble, “An’ he fucking knows it too. He thinks it’s funny to keep me down and flaunt that he’s a better brother than I am, I just know it. I can see it on his perfect, polished, _smug face.”_

Renji threw a hand up and let it fall against his leg, shaking his head and staring out at the sky. “I thought, I dunno’,” he scoffed, “after I’d accomplished some shit, maybe he’d be reasonable and acknowledge me, maybe he’d finally be ready ta’ see me as a real person.” He pursed his lips then. “But no.”

Putting on a faux condescending imperial tone, Renji imitated, “‘This work is unacceptable, Abarai-san, you ought to be sent back to remedial classes.’” He snarled in frustration, “My _ass,_ remedial classes.”

In a smaller voice, he seemed to shrink, and mumbled, “I’m not stupid,” crossing his arms and hunching down on the bench.

Ichigo frowned back at him. This had obviously really bugged Renji. Ichigo had let him vent to this point, not because he’d particularly intended to listen until Renji was done, but because he didn’t know quite what to say or do. Had Renji finished? Should he comfort? Should he change the subject, maybe? Should he agree to show support?

“… I’ve met him in passing,” Ichigo shared in return, to which Renji glanced an eye up, but continued stewing miserably. “He does seem kind of uptight, but I don’t really know him.” Renji grunted then. “Rukia’s always singing his praises,” Ichigo conceded, but nodded his head in agreement, “but from everyone else, I guess I have heard that he’s kind of a hardass.”

“Oh, he is…” Renji picked his teeth with his tongue in irritation. “… And he knows my papers are fine,” he began griping again, “He just wants an excuse to hold me back and make me retake his class.”

Ichigo suddenly realized that they’d never come to a point. Renji had never said what was bothering him or what had happened; he’d just jumped into a rant about how annoying Byakuya was and how much he treated him like shit. He hadn’t said if something had happened to upset him.

He was about to cautiously surmise: “So… he’s trying to make you fail? _Are_ you failing?” but Renji beat him to it.

With a sharp shake of his head, he said under his breath, “Dirty bastard.”

“Hm?”

“Guy’s makin’ me uncomfortable,” Renji muttered in the way one does when they don’t want others to hear. His eyes even began shifting a bit, like he expected someone to walk up and hear him. Ichigo quirked his brow, befuddled.

“Actually no,” Renji began again, closing his eyes with a hand out and a shake of his head like he was rolling his eyes. “He was makin’ me uncomfortable last year. This is the next level up from that.”

As if having seen a child crying, Ichigo reflexively responded with a smile and comfort, before thinking. He nudged Renji a bit and gently joked, “You uncomfortable? I don’t believe it.”

Renji was coaxed into a half-smile of his own. “Yeah, well, you know me,” he said, staring out at a falling leaf blowing through the grass, lit up in the sun. “I’m never down for long.”

Ichigo tilted his head, but before he could say anything on the strange bittersweet _sad_ atmosphere, Renji turned towards him and cracked a grin that was at first tired, but growing in playfulness. “Hey, Ichigo,” he said.

“What?”

Renji grabbed Ichigo’s water bottle in one violent _snatch_ and leapt up, running off, and with a shout, Ichigo hopped up after him on instinct. After the initial surprise, he groaned, but smiled in spite of himself. Renji was such a child, but all the same, Ichigo couldn’t really talk, because Renji fooled him with it every single time, giving him just enough of an excuse to ‘get mad’ and ‘fight’ him to get revenge for something stupid like splashing water in his face or stealing a water bottle, when really they both knew Renji just wanted to play.

Ichigo ran out after him and chased him around, eventually tackling him and tumbling them down so they could wrestle in the grass and fight over the water Ichigo had brought. At least, that’s what they’d tell anyone who walked by to see them rolling around and loving out in the open – because once Renji started tickling Ichigo and kissing on him a bit as they tossed about, it lost all appearance of an actual fight.

After they tired out and flopped into the grass in a heap, they lay and watched the clouds. Renji held him around the shoulders and Ichigo had his arm across Renji’s belly, his head nestled onto Renji’s ponytail where it splayed in the grass between them.

He didn’t think his heart could contain this soaringfeeling, he felt like he could float away, his heart felt so light – yet somehow so full, full to bursting. He didn’t think he’d ever felt like this before, or at least not for a long time. He hadn’t felt happiness like this, bald shameless happiness, since he’d been a very small child.

Ichigo hadn’t realized how… how lonely he’d been.

Rukia had been wonderful, probably saved him from plunging deeper into an apathetic and grey existence, she’d done so much for him, but even with her – and it feels selfish and horrible to admit it – he’s been lonely. With as much love and color as she’d brought back into his life, deep down, maybe he’d still longed for someone to be close to his heart in the way Renji was close to him now. He’d wanted someone to love and feel strong for and protective of and happy with and- Somebody he could feel those feelings with, someone he could melt with, melt through that cold colorless apathy, someone he could let pierce through the shell into the warm tender center that held so much affection and devotion. If Renji would let him, he’d feel this way with all his might, all his heart, all his strength, for as long as he could.

For the longest time, that kind of thing hadn’t even been a question – impossible, not even within consideration. He hadn’t even wondered if he might even be capable of something so wonderful, or deserving of that kind of love. He hadn’t realized he could feel strong enough that in that moment of ultimate vulnerability, there was no fear left in the depths of his soul. He wasn’t scared at all, and being able to say that and know that he’d come so far, to feel so deeply, to lie here with Renji, warm against his side, basking in the sun and feeling completely free, it seemed amazing.

Ichigo thought this feeling was fucking beautiful.

After this long of being so closed off, he’d finally found what felt like the ultimate happiness with another person – perhaps the first of many throughout his life, but Renji had shown him something beautiful, and it was a complete break to the long bout with the dearth of misery and apathy he’d felt in his life for the past thirteen years.

Having let his eyes drift shut after he’d lulled himself into a daze, watching the clouds and listening to the slow heavy beat of Renji’s heart, Ichigo adjusted his head and hummed a bit.

After a slight buzz, Renji moved a bit to take his phone out of his pocket. He checked the screen, and then withdrew, sitting up. Ichigo tried to catch his eye or a sight of his face, but Renji had turned away.  


        “Hey, I gotta’ go.”

  
“What?” Ichigo propped himself up on an elbow. “Okay,” he said in confusion.

“I’ll see you later.” He offered him a tight smile, then got up and walked off, and Ichigo stared after him, perplexed and troubled. Renji hadn’t kissed him goodbye.

 

. . .

_God only knows what I'd be without you._


	21. Ichigo Finds Out

_Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of it. I just got too lonely, lonely._

 

_. . ._

 

Ichigo didn’t see Renji for another couple of days, and in the meantime, having grown far too sick of Grimmjow’s moodiness and continued digs at Renji’s absence to spend any more time around him, Ichigo hung out with Keigo for once, and met with some other friends at the mall for a while.  
  
Chad even drove out, and man, he’d gotten big, what with his fighting practice. Ichigo had felt his back creak when he’d gotten swallowed in Chad’s arms when they’d hugged to greet each other. Sheesh, he was strong!

Still being a man of few words, Chad asked briefly, "What’s new?" and as they sat in the food court, Ichigo mentioned that he’d met somebody, and showed around the picture he had of Renji.

Chad looked at it silently for a long time, and then, after Keigo looked between the phone and Chad’s impassive expression twenty or so times, waiting for some surprised reaction, he said, “Handsome.”

“What?!” Keigo practically shrieked, flinging his arms up. “He shows you some strange tattooed man and that’s all you have to say?!”

Chad shrugged, and Ichigo sipped his soda, and Keigo banged his head on the table. “We met in class,” Ichigo shared, having already expected Chad to react well, since he’d always been really cool about stuff. All the same, he was glad to have at least one friend who was happy for him without any comments or warnings.

“He does lots of community work, and his favorite things are dogs, cute girls, and fish-cakes. So, no, he’s _not_ a stranger, and yeah, I guess he is kinda’ handsome.” He twisted his phone a bit and quirked his lip at the picture. “Isn’t he.”

Keigo whined a bit, but let it go. He still went on to complain that Ichigo didn’t hang out anymore because he spent all his time with his _boyfriend._ Ichigo stuck his tongue out at him.

“You should meet him, Chad. He’ll like you.”

“He doesn’t like _me!_ ” Keigo grumped, “He chased me away from you when I wanted to come on your road-trip!”

“He’s really friendly,” Ichigo continued, then gave Keigo a side-eye. “That was Grimmjow. And you weren’t invited.”  
  
“So mean!”

“Why didn’t he come along today?” Chad said, his deep voice cutting through their bickering.  
 

     “I guess he’s busy…”

 

Later on when he was back at home, Ichigo fiddled around on his phone for a time, delaying the inevitable. It had been an entire week now, and Renji was chronically unavailable. Grimmjow had stopped talking to him entirely because they couldn’t speak without getting into a shouting match over it. Grimmjow insisted he was ‘denying the signs,’ but Ichigo has more faith in Renji than that!

 

Relationships are about trust, and he knew Renji wouldn’t avoid him without a good reason. He knew what he’d signed up for with Renji, and Renji was a busy guy. Ichigo knew he’d have to share him with a lot of people. Grimmjow was just trying to fuck this up for him.

He put it off for the rest of the afternoon, took a deep breath, and dialed Renji’s number.

 _‘I’m not in denial,’_ he told himself, _‘there’s nothing to deny,’_ but as it kept ringing and ringing, he began to hold the phone tighter. Usually Renji picked up on the second or third ring.

     
     On the eighth ring, Renji picked up.  


“Talk to me,” was the first thing he said, and Ichigo immediately felt bad for bothering him, because it was obvious he was in the middle of something.

“Hey Renji,” he greeted, and felt a bit like he was leaving a message rather than talking to the real Renji, because his voice came out awkward and robotic. “I’m swinging by my parents’ place this weekend. Do you wanna’ come for dinner, maybe?”

Renji let out a breath in his ear. “Ahh, I dunno’,” he said at last, rather shortly. “I’m not really the meet-the-parents type.”

Ichigo frowned. Renji was the meet- _everyone_ type. “But… aren’t I your boyfriend?” he said hesitantly, “Shouldn’t you want to meet my family?” Had he been wrong to ask so soon? He’d thought for sure Renji would say yes, that he’d be enthusiastic like he was in everything else. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Renji wouldn’t want to.

Renji gave an annoyed huff, like he’d had it up to here and couldn’t take anymore. “No, yes, I dunno’,” he sighed. “Look, I don’t wanna’ discuss this.”

Ichigo was speechless for a moment. He’s probably just being sensitive. Renji probably wasn’t trying to hurt his feelings. He was just taking it badly.

“What?” he managed.

Renji sighed again, his voice growing rather pointed. “I can’t really talk right now, a’right?”  


    “Oh,” Ichigo said, toes curling up. “Okay.”

 

Ichigo didn’t try calling again. He’d better not bother him anymore. Renji would contact him when he was free.

 

He bummed around the house and studied, feeling a bit down. The autumn sun made him want to go outside and enjoy the falling leaves, but he didn’t quite feel up to it. He forgot how much time he used to spend indoors, alone. It was sort of hard to go back to. But not forever. Just until Renji has some free time.

Meanwhile, that meant he was cooped up with Grimmjow, and tensions between them had risen to a steady boil.  
  
At last, the following weekend, Ichigo knew a fight was coming. Grimmjow had glared at him in complete silence all day long, and Ichigo had scowled and ignored him.

Ichigo had tried to sleep in the afternoon, and Grimmjow had gone out for several hours, then come back, still silently glaring. After eating chocolate ice-cream and chicken nuggets for dinner, Ichigo lay on his bed glumly, web-browsing on his phone.

Grimmjow finally broke the silence, and Ichigo tensed immediately, almost welcoming the coming argument, the chance to scream and lash out against this _thing_ that’s been inside him and hurting him and choking him, this thing he can’t see or understand.

  
  “That dirtbag hasn’t come over in a while.”

  
Ichigo grit his teeth and told himself to ignore it, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Renji’s not a dirtbag,” he said back.

“Oh?” Grimmjow challenged, voice dangerously soft and deceptively level, which just meant he was going to strike without warning. “Then what is he?”

Ichigo picked his head up from the bed and shot Grimmjow a look. “He’s my boyfriend, Grimm.”

“Oh yeah? And where is this boyfriend now, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Ichigo demanded flatly, because he didn’t appreciate the insinuation in Grimmjow’s tone.

“Oh that's right. No one knows where a tom-cat goes at night.”

“What does that mean?”

“God, how dumb are you?!” Grimmjow finally shouted, “It means he’s fucking tricked you. You’re sitting here, fucking _miserable,_ and he’s out there-” He spluttered, face growing red as he searched for the words.

Ichigo was just about to huff and brush him off, he’s not miserable, Renji’s not like that, he has it wrong, but then Grimmjow finally hollered, “He’s fucking his teacher! He and Professor Kuchiki are having sex!”

  
   Ichigo stared at him, and his heart had undeniably dropped for a few terrifying seconds, everything hurt, everything was all wrong.  


“He lets him bend him over the desk and stuff him, and then Professor Kuchiki gives him a passing grade. Do you know how many people know this now? They’re fucking, Ichigo!”

His fingers felt icy, because it sounded like it made sense. Renji’d told him how Professor Kuchiki bothered him and messaged him all the time, how he humiliated him and messed with him. The worst is that it made sense why Renji’s been avoiding him, why he’d stopped hanging out with him after they’d finally had sex, like everyone had said would happen- using him, tricking him, he’s not serious, be careful with your heart-

 

        _"He fucking played you!"_  
  


Ichigo sat up in bed, and it made so much sense that he couldn't take it, he can’t accept it. His heart filled with vindictive anger, and he shut Grimmjow up. “I don’t believe that!”

It couldn’t be true! Yeah, Renji has always been nice to him, Renji’s always told the truth to him. That thing they’d shared together, it hadn’t just been Ichigo feeling that, it had been _real._ Renji cared about him. Renji wouldn’t have sex with somebody else, he wouldn’t betray him like that. It was out of the question, it was stupid even to think of.  


“Are you fucking listening to me?!”  


Ichigo went off then. He didn’t want to hear it. These past few weeks had built this sense of nervous frustration inside of him, and he’d finally blown his stack enough that he didn’t care about being cruel. He didn’t care if Grimmjow was just trying to help – no, you know what? Grimmjow _wasn’t_ trying to help. Grimmjow was a dick.  
  
"What is the matter with you, huh?” Ichigo demanded. “You make fun of me constantly for not getting laid and you try to make me hook up, but you don’t really want that,” he accused. “You don’t really want me to be happy. You want me to stay _so miserable_ that I have no other option but a cesspool of a person like _you_ as a friend.”

Grimmjow was speechless for a moment, but he glared fiercely and spat, “We’re not friends,” as if it was supposed to hurt Ichigo, and it may have done before, but Ichigo’d hardened his heart. This was the final straw.

“Oh I know,” he said. “You constantly remind me, and believe me, I know you’re not my friend. A friend wouldn’t get upset to see me happy.”

“You think you’re happy, that’s the issue, fucktard!” Grimmjow hollered, “He’s screwin’ around on you! Casanova! _Poner los cuernos!_ Do you understand?!”

  
    Ichigo sighed through his nose in irritation and just shook his head. “How much lower can you sink?”  


Grimmjow didn’t seem to know how to deal with him when he didn’t shout back. Ichigo was far too fed up with him, far too tired with this bullshit. “What, you think I’m making it up? That I’m- I’m _jealous_ that you’re hanging out with him and not me?” Grimmjow gave a huff of a laugh, “Who the fuck wants to-”

“-To hang out with me, I know, I know.” Ichigo set his jaw. “I’m not the one who’s been pissed off ever since _your_ plan for me and Renji to hook up started going well.” He narrowed his eyes, to which Grimmjow scoffed and scrunched his face up incredulously.

“You didn’t really want us to end up together. You didn’t really want me to find someone. You _wanted_ me to get my heart broken,” Ichigo accused. “You know why you hate Renji?”

“Oh, you’re gonna’ tell me why?” Grimmjow raged.

“Because he’s a _threat,”_ Ichigo snapped finally, and Grimmjow shut up, whether in surprise or fury, Ichigo didn’t know, and he didn’t care if it was cruel to say, he didn’t care if it was personal or below the belt. He just wanted to hurt Grimmjow like he was hurting right now, he wanted to hit back for all the times Grimmjow’s burned him.

“You thought he was gonna’ play me, so you tried to get me with him, and when it turned out he actually liked me, that scared you. You don’t like the idea of me hanging out with someone who is nicer to me than you are, because why would I _ever_ pick a jerk like you once I realize I can do better?”

“You think I’m jealous of that, that-!”

“You can’t even admit it,” Ichigo huffed, pushing his bangs back. “You do this all the time, Grimmjow, and you can’t fucking stop! You hate it when things start going well for me. This is just the last straw.”

“I’m telling you this to look out for you!” Grimmjow yelled, yanking on his hair.

“Like a friend?” Grimmjow couldn’t make himself nod, but Ichigo could see that it was a ‘yes.’   “What would you know about friends?”

“I have friends,” Grimmjow growled.

“No, you don’t,” Ichigo snapped, “Everyone only hangs out with you because you’re good looking and you have money, and your gang’s only around because they’re afraid of you.” Grimmjow just stared at him then.

“You try and pretend like you don’t need my company or my attention, so you treat me like shit when you have it, but you’re miserable when I’m not around. It’s because you have no one else. No one else can fucking stand you. I’m all you have, and still you’re fucking horrible to me.”

“You’re off your chain!” Grimmjow shouted.

“No, you know what? I’ll say it,” Ichigo argued back. “You’re a piece of shit, Grimmjow, you hear me? You’re _mean.”_ Grimmjow stepped back, livid. “Do you ever stop and wonder why no one good stays in your life longer than a few days? Do you know _why_ no normal person wants to be around you?” he led on, “It’s because you can’t stop ruining things, Grimmjow. You’re so wrapped up and obsessed with trying to make yourself feel less like shit that you make everyone else feel like that too. And you drive people away. Maybe you can get them in easy, but they don’t stay once they realize how fucking awful you are.”

Grimmjow took a breath to say something, but Ichigo plowed on, letting out all the garbage that he’s been holding in for years dealing with this guy. “And you know what? I’m glad you never considered us friends, because that’ll make this really painless for you.”

Grimmjow didn’t move, his face seeming to have frozen in a mask of ferocious rage, his eyes blazing, and Ichigo didn’t know why he hadn’t tried to hit him yet or anything, he didn’t know why Grimmjow was actually listening to him. 

“You’re always saying _‘who needs you, Kurosaki,’_ well congratulations, apparently you don’t either, and it’s a good thing too, because this is the _last time_ you’ll spit in my face,” Ichigo said.

“You’ve been waiting for me to say this forever. You’ve been provoking me and irritating me and pushing me and making me feel awful about myself, trying to get me to give up on you, well you finally did it, because I don’t see anything in you worth saving.”  


      Grimmjow’s jaw clicked as he grit his teeth, and Ichigo glared at him. “Get the fuck outta’ my life, Jaegerjaquez,” he growled, and that really was the final straw.  


Grimmjow lunged for him, and it was like that horrible day they’d met all over again, beating each other viciously, destroying everything around them, blood, ripping hair out, biting, pounding each other with their fists.

At a sudden crash of breaking glass, they snapped out of it and stood across from each other heaving, pieces of a broken bowl between their feet. Ichigo looked down at it, felt the water spreading across the floor reach his toes and soak them. It was the bowl he’d kept Renji’s lotus in weeks back, before it had wilted.  


      There was a fresh flower in there, a white one, crushed among the glass shards.  


He looked up at Grimmjow, the both of them shuddering and breathing heavily, bruised and battered, and Grimmjow looked beaten. The heavy scowl is still on his face, but the fire’s gone out of his eyes.

 

“Fuck this.”

 

Grimmjow smacked his palms together as if to say he washed his hands of the whole thing, and then stormed past him, out of the dorm.

Ichigo let out a long sigh, resting both hands on the top of his head as he looked around at all the stuff they’d wrecked. While he still felt in the right about the whole thing – if Grimmjow had just stopped pushing him so hard, then… – he did feel a little bad about some of the stuff he’d said.

Especially seeing that white flower. No matter how in the right he was, seeing that flower made him feel very very guilty.

Before he could think further about whether he should apologize or clean up the mess or follow Grimmjow, his phone rang.  


Renji’d finally called. Ichigo stretched out his back and took another deep breath, aching all over from his injuries. He picked up, and Renji said in his ear, “Hey, can you come over? I need to talk to you.”

           
          A piercing shred of doubt cut into him like ice.  


“What about?” he asked apprehensively.

Renji sounded quite urgent, worried even – or maybe he was tired? “I’ll tell you when you get here. It’s important.”

Ichigo tried to force a laugh. “Why not just tell me now?”

Renji didn’t laugh back, in fact, he sounded deadly serious. “Gotta’ be face to face for this.” Ichigo began to feel sick and small, pressing a fist into his gut.  


“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, very quietly.  


“No,” Renji answered quickly, then said again with a little huff of breath as if in dismay that Ichigo would even consider that, “No, Ichigo, it’s- no, it’s not you, just…” Ichigo held the phone tight so he could hear what it _‘just’_ was, but Renji didn’t clarify.

Finally he said, “Just come over, will you?”  
  
“Okay,” Ichigo managed, clearing his throat, and then promising, “on my way.”  


He got his coat and scarf on, and grabbed an umbrella, because cold rains had come on with the setting sun. As he walked out into the drizzle and began the trek across campus to the upperclassmen apartments, he tried to push down the knot in his chest. Honestly, he was a bit worried now that Renji was going to break up with him.

There was still this stubborn hold of blind faith within him that trusted that thing he and Renji had shared, the way he’d looked in Renji’s eyes and seen that he was telling the truth – Renji _did_ care about him, he really did, it can’t be true, there’s an explanation. He hoped when he got there the both of them could laugh it off, could talk out whatever’s been happening lately.

Ichigo looked across the road, dimly lit by the streetlight, which illuminated the thin sheets of rain as he walked in the dark towards the dorm.

As he approached, making the last stretch to Renji’s unit, his phone chimed, and he pulled it out to see he’d received a text from a blocked number. Probably Grimmjow, drunk-messaging him.  


Feeling worse about what had happened earlier now that he’d cooled down, Ichigo decided to answer him, so he opened the message.  


He looked numbly at the thread from the blocked number, a string of photos and screenshots of private messages. He looked at each, one by one, his eyes scanning them blankly, unblinking. Standing on the curb, Ichigo stared down at his phone, at the damning photographic evidence.

He’d been sent a photo of a man on his knees, obviously performing oral sex in a classroom – there, that was the edge of an administrator’s desk. His hands were on the thigh of the man standing in front of him. There was just the very tip of a lock of red hair showing on the upper border of the image, the rest having probably been lifted into a fist to guide his head.

If that hadn’t been bad enough, there was another photo beneath, an aerial shot that had Ichigo’s lips and fingertips feeling frozen and prickly. A stranger’s torso was visible, along with the crown of Renji’s head. There was no penis showing, but that was only because it’d been completely swallowed down.

There was a final picture with the top of the man’s face cut off, but it was still clearly Renji, and what could only be semen was splattered along his lips and chin. His mouth was contorted in a snarl.

Ichigo scrolled, reading the back-and-forth email exchanges that had been documented. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t.

As the first icy spear of pain shredded through him, he desperately tried to think, maybe these photos were taken before Renji had ever met him, before they’d done all the things they’d done together, but he remembered those clothes Renji had worn, he remembered that day – the day Renji had suddenly left him in the park, those were the clothes he’d had on. And the emails, the dates were recent.

Ichigo thought about all the sweet, nice things Renji had done for him and how genuine they’d seemed, how much he’d believed he’d meant it. Now the thought of it made him feel sick and stupid.

How had he been so easily fooled? Was Renji some con artist able to act so flawlessly and with such cruel intent that it bordered on sociopathy? How could he fake _feeling_ that well? How could he act so friendly and so caring and loving but not have it _mean_ anything? Had Renji really gone that far to trick him, to be to able to have sex with him?  


      Anger came, and in an impulsive rage, Ichigo threw his phone, stomped on it, cracked the screen.  


God, he’s been such a fool. He felt disgusting, like bugs had crawled inside of him and touched him all over with their little legs.  
  
It all made horrible sense now, why Renji didn’t want to commit to him enough that he’d go meet his family, why Rukia had warned him Renji was afraid of commitment, why Renji had gotten distant after they’d had sex, after he’d gotten what he’d wanted the whole time.

How many other people had Renji seen while they were together? When had he decided to do this? Had it all been a lie from the very beginning, or had Ichigo just gotten boring halfway through? Had Renji cared at all, _ever,_ even for one second? Had he pulled a cold-blooded charade, or had he just gotten scared and decided he had to have options, that fidelity wasn’t for him?  


    It doesn't matter which is it though, does it...  Not really. Either way, Ichigo's heart was broken.  


Ichigo picked his phone up out of the puddle on the street and turned away from Renji’s doorstep, and trudged home.

He doesn’t know when he lost his umbrella or let his coat fall open, but when he got back to the room, he was drenched and shivering. He opened the door, dripping all over the carpet, and to his surprise, Grimmjow was there. He halted in the doorway, and upon hearing him, Grimmjow whipped around, startled, having been wiping his face in a suspicious manner.

Ichigo didn’t even ask why he was back instead of out drinking or causing property damage, he didn’t even ask why Grimmjow had come back and begun trying to clean up the stuff they’d broken.

“The fuck do you want?” Grimmjow demanded defensively, and his voice was a little raspy.  


     Ichigo felt cold all over, and more than ever, he felt sorry for what he’d said.  


“You were right,” he heard himself say, and he sounded awful, like a frog. He couldn’t focus his eyes, managing to bring his blurred gaze to Grimmjow’s middle. “... I thought… Grimm, I’m sorry.”

It’s when his voice cracked and he sighed to calm himself that Grimmjow’s glare softened a bit, and he relaxed from his aggressive stance.

  
“Ahh shit, man,” he mumbled, shoulders hanging.  


“Yeah.”  


“You’re okay,” Grimmjow said, closer by. Ichigo didn’t know when he’d approached. “Fuck him. _Fuck_ him,” Grimmjow insisted harshly. “You’re okay.”  


“Yeah.”  


Ichigo thought of Renji comforting him on their first night together, _'you're okay, you're okay,'_ and felt so awful that he could die. He couldn’t do anything though, didn’t feel mad anymore. He couldn’t even make himself frown. He felt like everything else was draining out of him as sadness poured through like a tidal wave.

“...” Grimmjow stared at him for a moment, not saying anything more, seeming to be waiting for him to do something, but Ichigo just stood there, dripping. At last, Grimmjow pushed Ichigo’s hair off his forehead several times with a rough hand. At Ichigo’s continued silence, he growled and put a hand on his shoulder, painfully tight. Ichigo hung his head.

“You’ll beat this thing,” Grimmjow said. “... Stop crying,” he huffed. “Stop crying!” he practically wailed then, shaking him.  


“I’m not crying.”  


“Oh.”  


Ichigo finally managed to look up then, and quirked his lip a little. “Grimm, thanks,” he said. “Sorry for what I said.” Grimmjow met his eyes, listening for once

“I didn’t mean it,” Ichigo said sincerely, “I was just mad."

“Yeah, well,” Grimmjow brushed off gruffly.

“No really,” Ichigo insisted. “You’re a piece of shit a lot of the time, but you’re still a good friend.”

“Hey, knock it off,” Grimmjow mumbled, scuffing his toe and turning around. Ichigo smiled tiredly, and gave a long sigh to ease the pain in his chest.  


After Ichigo had taken a hot shower and gotten in his pajamas, Grimmjow ordered a pizza and got some beers, and they watched _Wolverine._

After many long hours of movie marathon in which they’d both slouched further and further on the couch and let their eyes drift further and further shut, Ichigo got up to throw away some of their paper plates and cups, only to find the glass pieces and the flower in the garbage.

He looked down at it for a minute and then set the plates on the counter, then reached in and pulled the flower out and put it in a bowl, threw the garbage away, and then went back to the couch.

It got hazy after _Daredevil,_ but at some point, Ichigo drifted awake to find his head resting on Grimmjow’s arm. He’d leaned over after falling asleep, and instead of shoving him off, Grimmjow had let him stay there. Ichigo let one eye peek open to find that he was playing Call of Duty, still cursing as usual, but doing so very softly, and doing his best to keep his arm still.

He’s never bothered to try playing quietly before. 

 

. . .

_I'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you. What did it ever mean to you?_


	22. Ichigo Gets the Truth

_Red roadside wildflower, if only I'd picked you._

_. . ._

 

When Ichigo woke up, he was back in his own bed, apparently having been moved there by Grimmjow in a rare show of tenderness.

He peeled his eyes open and stared at the ceiling and felt like he’d been run over by a semi. His bruises ached, and everything felt shitty. Ichigo didn't want to face this day, and more importantly, didn't want to face the pain of last night.

Grimmjow, who’d apparently decided to turn over a new leaf and be very very nice, had cleaned up everything from yesterday, and was passed out on the floor next to Ichigo’s bed, having clearly slumped over from a sitting position.

Sadness was an old friend of Ichigo’s, and however much he might not want to, he had no problem going through the motions of life. It was just a little worse and a little harder than usual. Seeing no sense in lying around for much longer, Ichigo got up, intending to make himself eat and shower, but those half-hearted plans went out the window when he saw his phone inside a tupperware of rice sitting on the counter. Grimmjow must have put it in there last night to dry out.

It looked to be in working condition from the way it was blinking, despite being crushed and thrown and drowned in a puddle. The notification light was steadily blinking, on and off, over and over.

He stared at it numbly, because he already knew who it was, and he didn’t know if he was ready for this, if he should break the peace of dazed pain inside of him and confront reality. He didn’t want to have some sort of meltdown. He wanted this whole humiliating episode to just go away.

Honestly, he didn't know what he was supposed to do from here. He wasn't even sure that Renji knew that he'd found out, didn't know if he'd have to confront him, tell him to stop pretending. Ichigo didn't know if he could look him in the face again, if he'd be able to stand the shame of it, the rage, or this tiny crushed thing that he didn't want to admit was heartbreak.

If he could, he'd never have what was sure to be his last conversation with Renji, he'd avoid him, try to let the pain fade after not seeing him again, not hearing his voice - so he'd never have to look back on all the memories that had glowed in his heart and destroy them with this black ugliness, this acknowledgement that  _he used you_ ,  _he never cared.  
_

_He never loved you like you loved him._

  
But Ichigo knew that there was no point hiding in a cave. Whatever was going to happen now, whatever there was left to face, he had to face with his dignity about him.

He took his phone out from the rice and rested his butt against the counter in the kitchenette, turning on his phone screen to find a slew of missed calls and voice messages and texts. Renji had probably gotten upset when he hadn’t shown up last night. Ichigo felt a twinge of bitter indignation.  
  


He opened the voicemails with a frown, holding the phone to his ear.

  
Maybe he'd expected it to be harder, to hear Renji's voice, but it hit him in numb waves at first, as though last night had never happened, a moment out of time, before the mirage had been dispelled.      
  
 _“ Hey, you okay?  You never showed.  Pick up.”_   The first few were brief and slightly impatient, but grew more worried.

   
              _“Ichigo, where are you?  Call me back.”_

 

Ichigo grit his teeth, shutting his eyes, and it _was_ hard then. He didn't want to listen to more. His stomach felt sick and his whole body felt shaky, like he’d drank too much caffeine. He didn’t even want to listen to Renji’s voice. Hearing it, all he could think about was how Renji had lied so flawlessly that he’d duped him and _humiliated_ him to the world. Even now, Renji sounded anxious, distressed, and Ichigo felt like a fool all over again from how real it sounded.   
  


 _“ Hey, I’m getting worried.  This isn’t like you…”_ Renji was quiet for a minute, and then huffed in a desperate frustration,   _“ God damnit, Ichigo, pick up!”_

 

As Ichigo scrolled to the next one, there was a marked time difference. While the first few messages had come at ten minute intervals, this one came nearly an hour after the rest, with many rapid-fire messages being left immediately after. He pressed his thumb onto it and then held the phone to his ear, his heart in his throat, his eyes clenched shut.

For a moment there was only the sound of Renji breathing like he’d just run a long ways. _“... Oh god,_ ” he panted, _“ You know, right?_ ”   And ice dropped into Ichigo’s gut, and he didn’t want to listen anymore.

         _“_ _You know…_ ” Renji’s voice wrenched, and Ichigo felt like kicking something, but he couldn’t wake up Grimmjow or he’d try to mother him some more, he'd try to push in on a moment that Ichigo could hardly handle in privacy, let alone with someone else there to witness his pain.    
  


Renji was quiet for so long, breath hesitating repeatedly, that by the time he finally spoke, the message ended and cut him off.   _“ Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt y-”_  
  


Fury building hot and dark inside his chest, Ichigo started to grit his teeth, his brow furrowing, and he picked up another, and another, some masochistic part of him thinking that he might as well fuck himself up with the rest of it if it was already this bad. Maybe he felt he deserved this for being so naive, or maybe he was just bitter, and wanted to hear Renji sound sorry, even if it enraged him and made his stomach twist up and tie a knot.

Renji was nearly hysterical by then, maybe even drunk, and Ichigo could hear cars honking in the background.  
  


 _“Ichigo, please, oh god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,”_ Renji told him, this panicked stream of earnest pleading, of _'Don't be hurt, I_ _didn't mean to hurt you.'_  
  


   _“You weren’t supposed to find out like this. I was going to tell you.”_ At least Ichigo appreciated that he wasn’t saying ‘it’s not what you think,’ wasn't trying to lie it all away. He must know it was bad enough that there wasn’t a point in lying.  
  


 _“Please,”_ he begged. _“Come to talk to me.”_ Ichigo clenched his teeth together. _“I’ll fix this,"_  he promised, and Ichigo didn't know how he thought he could, didn't know how Renji thought he could fix it after wrecking it the way he had, but he insisted again and again,  _“_ _I swear I will. I promise I can fix this.”_

  
His voice sounded raw then, so raw with emotion and _pleading_ that it hurt more than ever in that moment.  __“_ Please come back, I'll fix it,” _  he whispered, and that was when Ichigo finally felt choked up.      _“_ _Please come back.”_

       The message ended.

 

 _“Ichigo,”_ Renji said pitifully after a long silence, _“... Ichigo, pick up. Just lemme’ know you’re okay.”_

 

Ichigo didn’t listen to any more of them after that. He opened up his text inbox and scrolled to the bottom of Renji’s pleas for contact, and typed,  _‘ We’ve got to talk.’_

As he watched, like old times, the message was read immediately, and Renji began typing right away.    
  


    _‘ Oh god, you’re okay. I thought something might’ve happened.’_  
  


Something did happen. Something terrible had happened. _Renji_ had happened and now nothing would ever be okay again. Everything was changed and different and bad.

Ichigo looked down at his broken screen, and he can just barely see his reflection in the dim kitchen light. The cracked glass makes him look how he feels.  
 

    _‘ Yeah, yes, we’ll talk,’_ Renji typed. _‘ I’ll tell you everything. When can we meet?’_

 

Ichigo gave a long sigh and pulled on his bangs. The last thing he felt up to was talking or showing his face outside, but that’s what grown-ups had to do sometimes, even when they’d been kicked to the dirt. 

Most of all, if this was the end, the ugly bitter end, he wanted to get it over with, feel all the pain at once, the sharp terrible pain. He didn't want to drag it out any longer.

 

    _‘ Gimme ten minutes and I’ll see you in the student cafe.’_

 

Ichigo turned his phone off after that and set it down, getting his clothes on to go out. Grimmjow was still asleep by his bed.

After putting his shoes on, he went over and patted Grimmjow’s bruised face. “Hey,” he said, waiting until he snorted and came to, “Hey, I’m heading out.”

Grimmjow blinked dazedly, giving a big yawn and mumbling out a disoriented, “Qué?” He shook his head and grunted, “What, you're going? Where?”

“...” Ichigo stared down at him and Grimmjow stared back, then narrowed his eyes with a grimace, catching on.

“... Sure you wanna’ do this?” he muttered flatly.

“Yeah,” Ichigo said, “Gotta’ end this in person.”

Grimmjow gave him a long firm look, and some of the softness from last night is still there. “Don’t cave,” was all he said.   
  


“Yeah.”  
  


“You’ve got this.”  
  


“Thanks.”  
  


             “I’ll wait here.”  
 

                “Thank you. Back later.”

 

Luckily Ichigo didn’t see anyone he knew on the way to the cafe, or maybe he just wasn’t paying attention enough to recognize anyone. He walked slow, feeling miserable and embarrassed. He didn't know what to expect from this conversation other than it had to end in a goodbye. Maybe that's what made it so hard. Even when Renji had hurt him so bad, Ichigo still felt sad that it was over. He really was a fool, wasn't he, a fool with a heart that never learned its lesson.

But he's learned it this time. He knew from the way Renji had begged him to come back over the phone that when they met, Renji was going to apologize, ask him to take him back - but he can't. He knows he can't, can't ever believe him again, can't let Renji love him again.   He doesn't have it in him to try again. He's hurt too badly this time.

He just hoped Renji would make it quick, would part from him as easily and painlessly as he did from every other lover that had played together with him for a few golden weeks. Ichigo hoped Renji wouldn't make it an ugly mess, hoped he wouldn't try to hang on.  
  


      When he arrived, Renji was already waiting outside, and from a distance, Ichigo came to a slow and watched him pace, fidget, pace, check his watch, pace, look around…

Once Renji caught sight of him, Ichigo had to walk over of course. Didn’t mean he had to look at him. Ichigo stood a few feet away from him, staring down at the ground between them, Renji's fidgeting hands on the edge of his vision.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke, and the silence between them drove the nails in a little further. Renji seemed really uncertain, shifting, not knowing what to say. “Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” Ichigo replied, and winced at how flat and raspy his own voice sounded, like he’d been crying. He didn’t want Renji to think he’d been crying.

“Let’s sit down,” Renji suggested, so Ichigo walked past him and opened the door to the cafe and found an empty table. Not many people were around, but it was still public enough that Ichigo felt sure that Renji wouldn’t make a scene.

Ichigo finally lifted his gaze when Renji sat down across from him and looked anxiously into his face for some time, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern. It looked stupid. Those tattoos weren’t meant to bend upwards like that. They were meant to make him look harsh and tough.  
  


“What happened to your face?” Renji wondered in a hush, half-reaching a hand out, but drew it back when Ichigo moved away. More than anything, he doesn't want to be touched by him ever again, not after he's used him and thrown him away like a tissue he'd wiped his nose with.  
 

     “Don’t worry about it.”  
  


Renji clammed up again, hand frozen there as he stared at him in silence, subdued, like a dog that knew it was in trouble. Ichigo might have been planning to yell and be spiteful, but he didn’t know how, not with Renji looking so meek, so small.

“...” Ichigo gave a long sigh, leaning an elbow on the table and rubbing his forehead. “What is going on, Renji?” he said wearily.

Renji took the edges of the table, leaning forward, as if imploring him for- …   _something._ Ichigo didn’t know what on earth Renji could possibly ask of him now.   
  


      “Ichigo, I… I’m really sorry,” he tried, and Ichigo didn't know _what_ Renji could've said to keep him from turning cold and angry, but apologizing right off hadn't been the right words, and Renji must've realized at the same time because he faltered when he saw Ichigo’s face harden into a glare. “I just…”  
  


    “You just what,” Ichigo finished, “Just accidentally sucked a dick?”  
  


“No,” Renji admitted, voice trailing away as he lowered his head to stare at the tabletop. He put a good show of looking ashamed of himself.    
  
              “... It was no accident."  
  


“...” Ichigo swallowed the bitter knot of _hurt_ that rose in his throat at the verbal admission, because maybe there had still been some hope there inside him that Renji would fix it after all, that it was a misunderstanding.

“...” Renji looked up at him cautiously, and he seemed smaller than Ichigo’d ever known him to be. Ichigo’d expected more of his big personality, some sort of story explaining this all away, or maybe he’d expected Renji to argue back, to turn it around on him and instigate a shouting match.    But no, he looked guilty, looked sorry, so sorry that it seemed to hurt him.  
  


But Renji’d always been a great actor, hadn’t he.  Had to have been to string Ichigo along to this point.   But his heart is still foolish, and Renji still looked so genuine that he didn't know how it could _not_ be.       Ichigo didn’t know what to believe.  
  


              “I’m ready ta’ talk now,” Renji rasped at last.  
  


Ichigo began to lose control of his temper. It was much easier to feel righteous anger than it was to feel alone and sad. At least for him it was. “Oh, now that _you_ wanna’ talk, we’re talking, I get it.”

Renji seemed to want to retort, but to his credit, he swallowed it, perhaps seeing that he deserved for Ichigo to menace him a little. “I was too embarrassed before, but…”

“What?” Ichigo scoffed incredulously. What the hell did Renji have to be embarrassed for? Where did he get off acting like this whole thing was just some little screw-up to be _embarrassed_ over? Ichigo was the one who’d been made a fool of, he’s the one who everyone knows was Renji’s latest conquest, what an idiot to believe the running joke he played over and over, what an idiot to fall for it. Ichigo was the one who's been humiliated, who the whole campus knew Renji has pretended to love just so he could bed.

   How _dare_ Renji act like he's the one who'd been embarrassed.  
  


“Ichigo, I’ve gotta’ talk to you about Kuchiki,” Renji said, his face creased and tired, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to talk about. Ichigo felt the same. “About what’s going on between us.”

Ichigo slapped a hand down to the tabletop, and Renji looked around in alarm, as if afraid to attract attention. Well, Ichigo didn’t care. He’d thought Renji would be the one to cause a scene, but now it was him losing his composure, and he didn’t care who watched. He didn’t care if Renji felt humiliated, because that’s how he felt. He felt like the laughing stock of the world.

“Are you fucking serious?” he snapped, raising his voice. Just as quickly, he withdrew, shutting down, unable to accept another single word.  “I’m not listening to this.”  He picked his hands up and made claws with them.  “I already know!” He shook his head. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, can't believe Renji is going to do this to him, is going to pour salt in the wound at the end of it all, is going to try and make him listen to what was _going on_ between him and the man he'd betrayed him for.   

            _“ God damnit, Renji,”_   he croaked.  
  


His eyes prick with tears for one alarming moment, but then thankfully being vindictive and furious chased away the tightness in his throat.

   “You know what? Fuck you,” Ichigo growled, “Just fuck you.”

“What?” Renji said, aghast, shrinking away, seeming not to have expected his hostile outburst. “Hey, no,” he insisted, his voice high and pleading. “Look, I get if you’re mad, but I really need your support right now.”

God, he can't take anymore. He can't take any goddamn more.    _"No!"_  Ichigo shouted, and people were definitely staring now, well, let them stare. “ _Fuck_ this shit!”

“Shh, no,” Renji tried, holding his hands out to calm him, to try and quiet him, but Ichigo wouldn’t stay to listen to another second of this garbage. “Please, shh, shh.”

He'd thought he could make it through this to the goodbye, but now he just wants to go, to turn his back on this and walk away. Ichigo kicked his chair out and got up to leave, and Renji startled at the loud clatter, staring at him in shocked disbelief, his eyes wide.  “Where are you going?” he wondered, voice quiet with panic. “You can’t leave.”

Ichigo made to turn and go, because he can do whatever the fuck he wants to do and Renji doesn’t get to tell him- but Renji leapt for him and grabbed his arm, trying to coax him back. He let go when Ichigo gave him a fiery glare. “I dunno’ what to do,” Renji begged, voice hushed, “I need you to-”

Ichigo had the sense to lower his voice now, because people kept glancing over like he was about to shoot up the place. Plus, he’d learned a while back with Grimmjow that sinister quiet was much more effective than hollering.

“You drop off the map for a week when I need you, but the minute you need me to bail you out of some shit, you expect me to just be there?” Ichigo shook his head and hissed, “You’re fucking pathetic,” and the quiet tone worked, because Renji recoiled like he’d smacked him.

“How much more do you wanna’ degrade me, Renji?” Ichigo demanded, voice wrenching, and he didn't know if he really wanted an answer or now, but he grit out the words all the same. “You completely humiliate me and then you think I’m going to help you on top of it? No, you deal with whatever this is by yourself and leave me out of it. This is over.” He shook his head and zipped his jacket up. “I don’t even wanna’ look at your face,” he spat, “just _go.”_

 Renji reacted as though he'd been struck by lightning, shooting back, "No, it’s not over,” his voice going high and quick with panic, “it’s not over.”

“It’s over if I say it is.” Ichigo turned and walked out. Renji shoved out of his chair and scrambled after him, leaving his own coat behind.

“It can’t be over,” Renji denied, shaking his head, trailing at his side. “Lemme’ explain. You can't leave when you never even listened! You can't! You never even let me explain!”

Ichigo halted and whipped around, and Renji stopped in his tracks, startled when Ichigo bared his teeth in his face. “What’s there to fucking _explain?”_ he growled, “You had sex with your teacher and who knows what else you did.” Ichigo paused for a moment, because his words weakened to the point of cracking.

The strength he'd felt in being angry, in acting like a wounded animal, vicious and dangerous, it all bled out, and his shoulders drooped, his arms felt limp, his heart heavy and aching.       
  
“You made me think you cared about me. You tricked me into bed, you made me fall for you, you got what you wanted, okay? You _won,_ so why are you dragging this out?” he wondered, voice absolutely strangled.

“No!” Renji denied, shaking his head, “No, no,” he tried, “I wouldn’t do that!” Ichigo shook his head in disbelief that Renji was still trying as if there was anything left to try for. He turned away from him and hugged himself, rubbing his cold arms, and Renji grew desperate, wouldn't let Ichigo pull away, circling around him to try and make Ichigo look at him.   

  
      “I’m not bad,” his voice rose to a near-wail, “I’m not a bad person!”  
  


Ichigo scrubbed at his aching face, and then let out a huff. “You know what, Renji?” he said, with a sense of finality. “You’re a _jerk.”_   Meeting Renji’s dismayed speechless gaze, Ichigo spread his arms out to the side and then let them fall with a shake of his head.

“What the hell did you even call me for last night, huh? What were you gonna’ tell me when I came over?” he demanded breathlessly, “That you played me for a _fucking fool_ this entire time and that everyone who’s told me you’re no good was right about you? That the whole world knows how much of a moron I am? That everyone knew you were gonna’ trick me into spreading 'em and I _did,_ like a _fucking idiot?”  
_

Renji seemed frozen in surprise. Ichigo hissed in his face, “Or maybe it was to drag this con on even longer by doing damage control and getting me to forgive you. Were you gonna' tell me you just made a mistake?”

Renji began shaking his head repeatedly, and Ichigo didn’t get why, he didn’t know why Renji was hanging on so tight if he hadn’t hung on tight enough to _not sleep with his teacher._

“‘It was only one time, it won’t happen again, baby, I love you?’” Ichigo surmised. “How close was that to your plan?!”

Renji didn’t have anything to say to him, wasn't even shaking his head 'no' anymore, and in that moment of surprised silence, Ichigo growled and hit the wall, punching it with both fists, a scream and _tears_ rising high in his throat. He felt so stupid, so _used._ Why hadn’t he listened when Rukia had said it, when Grimmjow had warned him? How had he been so dumb as to believe that he could be special to someone like Renji, how had he ever believed that he was different, that Renji meant any of it?   He’s such a fucking _fool!  
_

  
“No, Ichigo, stop! That’s not true!” Renji tried to grab him, but Ichigo swung at him too, missing. “Stop, Ichigo! That isn’t true,” Renji insisted.  
  


“Then _why?”_ Ichigo demanded, feeling exhausted suddenly, his fists aching and hanging at his sides. Just tell him why.  
  


Renji gave him an earnest look, keeping his voice lowered to try to bring the conversation back down, which made Ichigo mad. He wasn’t an animal that needed to be calmed, he wasn’t a kid throwing a tantrum. He was _right_ to be upset. Renji had _hurt him._

“I called you- Ichigo,” Renji paused, and Ichigo found that he was panting heavily, almost too hard to hear Renji speak. He nodded and ran his hands through his hair, staring down at his feet. Renji started again, his voice even quieter, as if to cause him the least amount of pain possible. “I called you because I need your help.”  
  
Ichigo almost burst into another fit of rage, because how dare Renji think he could ever ask him for help again after this, how dare he think he could humiliate him even further, but he was too blown out to get wound up anymore - all that's left inside was exhaustion and despair.     
  


      “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this hurt you, but I really need your help right now,” Renji said urgently.  
  


Ichigo gave a long bone-weary sigh. He gave Renji an impassive look and more than anything, wanted to walk away from him and forget they’d ever met, forget he’d ever felt those feelings, forget about the flower. He’d rather rip that tree with the buds right out, he’d rather gouge his heart out than know for a second longer that those buds had bloomed for a liar. He’d rather forget the happiness he’d felt altogether. He wished he could take it back, he wished he could go back to the rain, rather than let one more weed grow inside him.

“I dunno’ what to say to you,” Ichigo finally managed, and he was startled by how emotionless his own voice was, as if this didn’t affect him at all, as if his heart weren’t screaming, as if that tree and those buds weren’t burning, weren’t being sawed and hacked apart.

“I really don’t know what to say. You have your little tryst with Kuchiki and you still think you can fuck me on the side,” Ichigo said flatly, “Incredible.”

Renji showed some anger for the first time then, when he viciously spat, “It’s _not a tryst.”_ He ran a hand over the top of his head, heaving for breath, clearly upset. “You think I _want-...”_ He took a long calming breath and began again.

“Look Ichigo,” he finally said, exhausted. “Kuchiki’s been harassing me ever since I became an undergrad.”  Sounding alarmingly choked up all of a sudden, Renji managed, “It just got out of control.” Ichigo stepped back.

Renji’s eyes, wounded and tired like that day in the park, reached out for him. “Please Ichigo, you have to believe me, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

"I don't. I don't have to believe a fucking word you say ever again," Ichigo shot back, wanting to hurt him, and he can see that he does from the way Renji crumpled, from the way his eyes shone with remorse and dismay.

"Please. I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I didn't want to hurt you, Ichigo, please believe me," he croaked, and when Ichigo saw his chin wobble, he nearly hurled himself away in horror and contempt. He really hoped Renji didn’t break down and cry, because Ichigo was already upset and was barely shoving it down, and if Renji cried, he was going to cry too.

It ticked him off, because Renji didn’t deserve to cry, he didn’t deserve to be the one crying, but the strain in Renji’s voice, the way he was getting choked up, Ichigo felt it bubbling up in his own throat, the pressure of tears, the pain he’s pushed down until now, the _why, why, why did you do this, why did you hurt me, why wasn't I good enough, what did I do-_

He hated the confusion, the hot tangle of grief and loneliness and pain inside him, because more than ever, he didn't understand Renji's repeated efforts to apologize, didn't understand how he could stand there and fight back tears. He didn't get why Renji was trying not to cry over him, didn't get why he was fighting so hard not to let him go if he'd never cared, if it had all been a lie. No one's that good, no one's good enough that they'd stand there with no coat in the frigid air and with their eyes brimming with tears and their voice cracking like their heart was breaking.

Ichigo didn't understand, but he didn't even know if he wanted to, didn't think he could survive anymore emotional manipulation, didn't think he could live with it if Renji tried to tell him he really had cared all along, but had done this anyways. It made it worse, almost.

“I wouldn’t have involved you,” Renji said at last, after he’d gotten it under control. “I tried handling it myself, but…”

Ichigo had listened to Renji’s explanation, his excuse that this fling with Kuchiki Byakuya had been a mistake, something he hadn't wanted to happen, honestly, he had, but it was hard to feel bad for him. Because he still could’ve said no to his Professor, he’d still had the choice. He hadn’t _had_ to betray Ichigo or hurt his feelings or _lie_ or pretend to care about him.  
  


“But then you fell into bed,” he finished.  
  


“No.” Renji shook his head desperately, but it wasn’t a ‘no, it didn’t happen,’ it was a ‘no, it didn’t happen like that,’ and Ichigo drew back. He wanted to go home. He didn’t want to be hurt anymore, he didn't want to suffer the humiliation a second more. This was the last time Renji would burn him.  
  


"Yes," he breathed.  
  


"No," Renji denied.  
  


"What you did," Ichigo murmured, "was a total betrayal." That seemed to silence him for a few moments. Renji took a step towards him, hesitant and broken.

“Ichigo,” Renji tried, his voice pained and thin. “... I never betrayed you in my heart,” he got out, the words cracking, as if they were a last ditch effort, something he hadn’t wanted to say but _had to_ because he had no other choice, no other ideas.

“You don’t get to decide whether or not I feel betrayed.”

“I really didn’t,” he insisted, his voice high and his face crumpled, like he’d hurt something delicate like a butterfly or a kitten or a baby and couldn’t fix it because it was too fragile, already ruined.  
  


“Whatever,” Ichigo heard himself say.  
  


“Ichigo,” Renji said, reaching out. “I’m sorry.”  
  


“I said whatever.”  
  


“...” Renji just looked at him for a long time like he didn’t know what else to say, like he didn’t know what to do other than say sorry and now that Ichigo hadn’t accepted his apology and forgiven him, he was lost.

“...” Ichigo put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. He didn’t know what to say now either.

“I didn’t try to ruin everything,” Renji attempted, very quietly.

“It doesn't matter. Let's go,” Ichigo muttered, because as much as he’d wanted to split earlier, he could see there was still a lot to say. “Let’s get out of here.”

He turned and started walking, and Renji followed at his heels. They walked out towards the park in silence, all the way onto the jogging path that led through the woods. They made it through the falling leaves and along the wooded trail to the bridge over the creek.

At last, alone, Ichigo came to a stop and leaned on the thick wooden handrail, looking out at the water, the leaves being carried along it until they were out of sight. Now that no one was around, Renji seemed ready to start another round of begging his forgiveness, which, honestly, Ichigo had expected him to do sooner.

“Ichigo,” he began, breaking almost a half-hour of tense silence. Ichigo didn’t look up, and Renji tried harder, drawing close at his elbow, trying to look into his face. “Ichigo, please, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’ll do whatever I have to to show you I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I hurt you, but please don’t give up on me, I don’t want it to be over. I’ll be better, I’ll try harder, I swear I will.”

Ichigo let out a breath through his nose, closing his eyes, and Renji just pressed harder, his voice earnest and pleading, “I’ll fix this. I can be loyal, I promise I can.  
  
  
    “You lied,” was all Ichigo said.  
  


“No, I didn’t lie,” Renji insisted frantically, “I didn’t.”  
  


“You didn’t tell me the truth,” Ichigo amended, which was just as bad.  
  


Renji pulled on his hair and exhaled. “I tried to yesterday, but you didn’t come,” he explained, “I was going to, I promise. I was going to tell you everything. I guess you just found out before I could.”

“...” Ichigo swallowed hard, and still didn’t look at him, thinking of those photos, still burned into his brain. It had felt special when they’d done it, when Renji had taken his virginity, it had felt like just _them,_ like they’d felt something together, but now it didn’t feel special. Ichigo felt like he could’ve been anyone.

“Ichigo, I never cheated on you, you’ve gotta’ believe me,” Renji implored, “You’re the only one in my heart, it’s only you,” he promised, voice hushed, “I never betrayed you from my heart.”

Ichigo tried to keep in his bitter comments, but he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “Just with everything else.”  
  


“...” Renji couldn’t seem to answer, and Ichigo gave a long sigh.  
  


“You can’t honestly think I’m gonna’ forgive this, can you?” he wondered, growing upset again just thinking about it. “What, you thought I wouldn’t find out? That you could just make a fool of me forever?”

“Stop it,” Renji begged, “I’m not like that.”  
  


      “Ugh, just shut up!” Ichigo shouted, his voice echoing in the woods and surprising them both.    “You’re _exactly like that!”_ he hollered, finally admitting it to himself, that they’d all been right and he’d been wrong, he’d been a fool.

“God, you already took my virginity, how much lower can you bring me?” he choked out, “Does the whole world have to know you pulled one over on me for you to be satisfied?”

“It’s not like that,” Renji said firmly, eyes steely. “I don’t know what kind of monster you think I am, but everything we did and everything we said, I meant,” he said, voice softening. Ichigo hung his head.

“I just fucked up,” he whispered, and Ichigo tossed his head away. “It’s just like everyone told you. I’m a dog to my bones,” Renji croaked, “I’m a no good piece a’ shit, an’ all I’ve ever done is fuck up a good thing.” He paused and swallowed. “... I’m sorry.”

“Forget it,” is what Ichigo heard himself say. He couldn’t do anything else other than push away the apologies.

He pushed off of the ledge and tried to walk around Renji, but he headed him off, holding his arms out. “It didn’t go down how you think it did,” Renji insisted. “Whatever you think, that I got bored with you or that I couldn’t help myself, that’s not true.” Ichigo stopped and stared flatly at him.

“I had a moment where I wasn’t as strong as I should’ve been,” Renji said, “That’s all.” He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I thought it’d get him off my back maybe, but of course that was stupid. He’s just upped the ante. He wants me to do it again plus more.”

Ichigo stared at him, looking from one eye to the other. Renji’s shoulders sagged in defeat, and he said in a small voice, “Ichigo, I dunno’ what to do.”

“‘Off your back…’” Ichigo repeated at last, eyes narrowed. It sounded almost like… Well, if that was the case, it fit with those weird things Renji had said earlier about needing his help and Byakuya bothering him all the time.

“So you’re saying _Kuchiki Byakuya_ is soliciting sex from you,” he said skeptically. “You’re telling me you’re the type of person that can be solicited for sex.”

He regretted saying it almost immediately when Renji’s shoulders hunched with shame, when he looked like he felt embarrassed and _dirty_ like he'd made Ichigo feel. Maybe it was wrong to be cruel, but he’d wanted to hurt Renji back for hurting him, he wanted to lash out and felt he was right to do so.

“... I wouldn’t have put it like that,” Renji muttered.

“How would you have put it?” Ichigo huffed in exasperation.

“Uh, _blackmail?_ ” Renji said as if it were obvious. “Harassment? A fuckin’ repressed pervert who’s been breathing down my neck for the last year? Bugging me so much and for so long that I lost my cool and everything went to shit!” He cleared his throat, seeming embarrassed by the outburst. “That’s how I’d put it.”

Ichigo refused to be tricked again, he refused to feel bad or think with his heart. He’d never trust that damn thing again. “You expect me to buy this bullshit?” Ichigo wondered, “That he pressured you and you just… what? Hopped on his desk?”  
  


 _“ That’s not what happened,”_ Renji snapped, wounded.  
  


“...” Ichigo glared and shook his head.  
  


“You’re right,” Renji growled, looking out over the water at his side. “It is a load a’ bullshit.” He shrugged a shoulder. “You know me, I don’t let people push me around, so once he stopped leering at me and finally actually _said_ something, I was real clear tellin’ him it wasn’t gonna’ happen. He wouldn’t accept that though.”  

He leveled Ichigo with a hard look, and said with some resentment, “I know you’ve heard about my reputation too. I know I’m notorious for not saying no to anything hot.” Ichigo pressed his lips together.

“Well after being quiet for who knows how long, then creepy for a year, and then finally offering – to have slutty trash like me say no really hurt his ego.” Renji shook his head, picking his teeth with his tongue. “Fucker won’t quit.”

In a rather hushed voice, Renji stressed, “He’s been hounding me for months now, Ichigo. I had it under control, that’s why I didn’t tell you, but it just escalated so quickly a few days ago.” Renji put his face in his hands and scrubbed. “He just _sprung_ it on me and I couldn’t get out of it.”

Still quite skeptical, Ichigo muttered, “Why would he _do_ that?”

“I dunno’,” Renji shot back defensively, “Power trip?” He shook his hands. “Look, I told you, he gets a boner outta’ humiliating me!” He clenched his teeth and grit out, “He wants to prove his superiority to me in the most degrading way possible.”

As convincing as Renji always was, what he said didn’t check out. Ichigo knew Byakuya, and it didn’t seem to fit the guy’s personality, at least not what he’d seen.

“Renji,” he sighed, “This shit doesn’t fly. I know the guy, and he’s completely frigid. He’s the most professional guy I’ve ever met.”

“Oh he was for a long time,” Renji agreed, shaking his head. “He was a dick, but he was professional about it. But then he got weird.” He grumbled to himself for a second and then said, “He kept making excuses for me to see him privately and he started making advances. At first I flirted back, but when I saw he wasn’t playing around, I tried to ignore him. But then he came out and said it, and I had to tell him to stop,” Renji explained, “I said I wasn’t interested and that he’d better stop or I'd tell, but that’s when he went fucking _mental.”_

Renji put a hand over his eyes, letting a breath out of puffed cheeks. “Threatened ta’ ruin my life if I talked or if I didn’t do what he said.” Renji was quiet for a moment, the shame palpable in the air. “And I cracked,” he admitted. “God, why did I let it happen. I wish I could take it back… I’m the lowest of the low.”

Ichigo was still very hurt, he still felt gullible and stupid, like he’d been tricked and wronged, and he didn’t want to fall for another scheme so easily, but at the same time, he wasn’t made of stone. He had a compassionate soul, and he still cared about Renji, and hearing all of that, his heart had undeniably softened. He couldn’t help but be begrudgingly concerned.  
  


   “... Has he hurt you?” Ichigo wondered. “...”  
  


Renji didn’t answer, still leaning into his hand. “...” That spooked Ichigo. He turned towards him, eyes flicking over him.

“What did he do?” he said worriedly, “Renji-”

“I can’t, okay?” Renji said very quietly. “I can’t…”

Ichigo swallowed and licked his dry lips, his heart in his gut. “... Have you told anyone? Why haven’t you told anyone?”  
  


            “I’m telling you,” Renji whispered.  
  


 _‘ Ah shit.’_ Ichigo’s heart clenched and he looked down at his hands. Renji gave a heavy sigh, finally taking his hand away from his face and straightening up.

“Hisagi knows,” Renji said. “I mentioned it offhand to my family.”

“What about Rukia?” Ichigo latched onto her. That was the answer. “She can stop this.”

Renji turned to him with urgency, his voice serious and imploring. “She can’t know most of all. We’re already far enough apart. If she thinks I slept with her brother…” Renji’s eyes were wild and pained, and he begged, “Ichigo, you can’t tell her. Promise me.”

Ichigo swallowed, but looking into Renji’s face, he managed, “I promise.”

Renji panted slightly, watching him for a moment longer before turning away. “I did think of that,” he said at last. “I threatened him that I’d tell Rukia if he didn’t back off, but… Ichigo,” he whispered, “if I don’t do what he says, I’m fucked.”

Ichigo swallowed once more against the hard knot in his throat. Renji went on, tired and irritated. “If I tell anyone, I’m fucked, if I piss him off, I’m fucked. If I do what he says, I _get_ fucked.” He turned to Ichigo and looked in his eyes, and he looked more desperate than Ichigo’d ever seen him.

“I don’t know how to fight this. He’s loaded and his family has this big political influence…” Renji rubbed his hands on the top of his head, listing, “I’m looking at my scholarship disappearing, my name dragged through the mud, getting blacklisted.”

His voice wrenched with the unfairness of it all. “I’m so close to my degree, I’m so close to my dream, and he can end all of that.” He grit his teeth. “He’s taken Rukia from me and now he’s gonna’ take this from me too.” He threw a hand up and let it fall against his leg, and all that was left in his tone was sorrow and exhaustion.  
  


    “Even you,” he said, and Ichigo felt numb all over, frozen in place. “Even this got ruined."  
  


It vaguely registered that he was considered as important as Rukia, as important as Renji’s dream to get out of the hole he'd been born in and matter in the world, to do something good.

"You don't know how sorry I am. I should've been braver. I shouldn't have done something that'd hurt you, and I'm sorry, Ichigo, I am," Renji said earnestly, and somehow Ichigo felt that he should tell him not to apologize, but the words didn't come. "I've made a lot of mistakes, but this might be the worst one of my life. I made some bad choices and now I’m trapped.” He pressed his hands on either side of his head. “I’m fucking screwed, Ichigo. I dunno’ what to do.”

“Wow,” Ichigo said at last.

Renji looked at him as if to say, _‘ That’s all you can say?’_ Ichigo shook himself.

“Sorry, just… wow,” he repeated, and kicked himself. He’s always been bad at words. “I didn’t know that happened in real life anymore,” he said, “or to guys for that matter.”

“I don’t appreciate you belittling what I’m going through,” Renji grumbled, “this is my _life_ at stake.”

“Try and keep calm,” Ichigo coaxed when Renji began pacing.

“Ichigo, I don’t wanna’ go through with this,” he said almost frantically, “I can’t let him wreck my life, but I can’t…” He swallowed sickly, and Ichigo remembered that feeling of having bugs all over and knew what Renji was feeling. “I don’t think I can do what he wants,” he managed. “I won’t be able to live with myself knowing I’m his bitch,” he grit out.

He looked at Ichigo for a moment and then burst, “What should I do?”

Ichigo put a hand to his mouth as Renji waited for an answer. “Could you call the police?” he said at last, after thinking for a time. “Maybe… maybe go to the school board? Maybe you can get him fired.”

“Not before he gets my credits taken away for messing around with a teacher,” Renji said bitterly.

“Can they even do that?” Ichigo wondered, “Don’t be blackmailed. You’re not the type of guy who caves to threats.” He trailed off when Renji gave a small smirk. “... Renji?”

“It-” He cleared his throat, looking at his feet and trying to smile. “It was so hard to… to think I could tell you,” he rasped. “I know you said I can tell you anything, but it was really hard, because… I didn’t want you to know how low I can get… that I’m not as strong as you thought.” He scratched at the back of his neck, head hanging low. “... Heh’,” he forced a laugh, “I… fuck, I just got so scared about what he might do, that… yeah,” he said, putting his hands over his mouth and nose and breathing through them.

Ichigo swallowed hard as Renji finally said, “And that’s really embarrassing to admit, but I let him get what he wanted.” Renji rubbed his brow and frowned.

“Call the fucking cops,” Ichigo demanded, “Don’t let him do this shit anymore.”

“Ichigo,” Renji mumbled, wincing, eyes screwed shut, “there’s already photo evidence that I’ve sucked his dick. Now he’s got _that_ over me too.” He gave Ichigo a long stare. “If I don’t give him the satisfaction of humiliating me, I’m done. It’s over.”

“What’s some gossip, what’s a bad reputation?” Ichigo said breathlessly, unable to find a solution and hating it. “Who gives a damn about that?”

“If it were as simple as gossip, it’d be an easy decision, because everyone already knows I’m a slut,” Renji muttered, huffing a sigh, “but it’s not that small.” Voice strained, he continued, “If he puts out whatever he’s recorded online, it’ll be there forever. Even if I get him in jail or fired or whatever, I’m fucked. Even if I still get my degree, I’ll never get a job, Ichigo. I’ll always have that following me around. People will _know.”_

Voice wrenching, Renji’s face screwed up in distress as he choked out, “I’ll be a fucking deadbeat all my life. I’ve worked so hard…”

That day in class together when Renji had stared out over the room and promised he wasn’t going to live a worthless life came back to him, the day he’d told Ichigo he was trying his best to catch up to Byakuya so that he was worthy enough to be Rukia’s brother again, that came back to him too.  
  


“Renji,” Ichigo said, “You’ll get through this.”  
  


“How?” Renji whispered.  
  


“I dunno’, but we'll figure it out,” Ichigo promised with confidence. “I have your back whatever happens.” He clapped a hand to Renji’s shoulder.

Renji opened his mouth to say something, but there were no words, and his face just twitched as he brought his hand up to Ichigo’s, taking it away and then holding it in his grasp. He rubbed his fingers tentatively, as if he was amazed that he was still allowed to do so. At last, he was able to rasp, “Knew I could count on you.”  
  


“Well yeah,” Ichigo mumbled, rather shyly, scuffing his toe.  
  


“I’m sorry. You don’t need this.” Renji loosened his grip, but seemed unwilling to let go entirely, fiddling with Ichigo’s fingertips.

“I didn’t get with you because I needed you. I did it cause I wanted to,” Ichigo said, pulling on his ear. “Isn’t that better? Making a choice despite the risk?... Some things are worth that.”

“...” Renji didn’t smile, but he gazed into his face silently, eyes seeming to see into him.

“I’m sorry for the shit I said,” Ichigo apologized, feeling stupid for doubting now, even though any reasonable person would have after seeing those pictures. “I guess I get scared too.” He quirked his lip in a sheepish smile.  
  


“...” Renji gave a long sigh, still not smiling. “What did I ever do ta’ deserve you."  
 

Ichigo huffed a laugh and brushed it off with a shrug, but Renji made a ‘c’mere’ noise and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in and resting his head against Ichigo’s. Ichigo patted his back rather stiffly, still feeling the bugs somehow, still feeling vaguely discontented even though he wasn’t mad anymore. When they pulled apart, Renji swiped at his nose and wouldn’t look at him, turning and putting his hands deep in his pockets.

They walked a bit down the path, feet crunching in the wood chips and watching the falling leaves, and eventually, after Renji kept hiding his eyes and looking shame-faced, Ichigo muttered, “Stop.”

“What?” Renji popped his head up, bewildered.

“Hating yourself,” Ichigo clarified, giving a no-nonsense glare as if daring Renji to deny that he was.

Renji gave a swift sigh and scrubbed his nails on his scalp. “You get it, don’t you?” he said, at which Ichigo raised an eyebrow. “It’s not just because it’s a professor, it’s worse because it’s Kuchiki,” Renji growled, “I fucking hate the guy and I sucked his dick.”

Illustrating angrily with his hands, he raged, “He fucking _swooped in_ with all his money and status and took Rukia away from me! He’s the reason she stopped thinking I’m good enough.”

Ichigo frowned. “... Do you really think that’s how she feels? That you’re not good enough?”

“How could she when her new brother’s so much better than me in every way,” Renji said in frustrated sadness.

“Rukia doesn’t see it that way,” Ichigo insisted.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Renji dismissed, “The point is, I’ve spent the last ten years trying to beat him at something to be on par with him so I can be her brother again, and he’s spent the last ten years trying to humiliate me any way he can. That’s how this whole thing started.”

Ichigo listened as he walked at Renji’s side, looking to his face frequently as he spoke. “He basically ignored me until I based a year-end paper in direct contradiction to his doctoral thesis.” Even at such a stressful time, Ichigo couldn’t help but be impressed and feel a little flicker of love for Renji’s drive and aggression towards his goals.

“That’s probably when he decided he wanted to fuck the defiance outta’ me, actually, because that’s when he started giving me a hard time,” Renji muttered. “He’s spent the last decade doing whatever he can to humiliate me and make me look like an idiot to Rukia.”  He growled, “He’s taken away the only person who ever loved me, and made getting my degree a living hell, and I fucking _sucked his dick, Ichigo._ _”_

Ichigo frowned, putting a hand out against his shoulder as Renji came to a stop and heaved with rage. “Hey man, are you gonna' be okay?” he comforted, rubbing his back.  
  


“No, I sucked Kuchiki’s dick,” Renji said miserably.  
  


“You alright?” Ichigo rubbed him more, and Renji let his forehead clunk onto Ichigo’s head.  
  


He gave a long sigh, body sagging. “I will be as long as I have you,” he barely breathed, letting Ichigo put an arm around him.

“...”

Renji held him then, caging him in his arms, his hand bringing his head close. He gave another great sigh, standing with him and twisting them from side to side. “God, don’t lemme’ lose you too,” Ichigo thought he heard, and he closed his eyes and pressed his nose into Renji’s shoulder.

They sat down in the woods at some point in the quiet, back to back with their legs pulled up like that evening on the lawn when they’d gone to the oceanside together. Ichigo’s hand was over Renji’s.  
  


“Ichigo?” Renji said tentatively after a long time resting against each other.  
  


“Yeah.”  
  


“I wanna’ tell you something,” he murmured.  
  


“Okay,” Ichigo replied, and when Renji didn’t move to speak for a few moments, he rolled his head to the side against Renji’s to prompt him on.  
  


“Something I’ve never told anyone. Not even Rukia.”  
  


“Okay.”  
  


“... It’s hard,” he said, and was quiet for a full ten seconds. “So don’t talk ‘till I say the whole thing.”  
  


“Okay,” Ichigo agreed.  
  


The only sound for a long time was the wind rustling the leaves and the branches rattling above them, distant bird calls, and their breathing. Ichigo thought Renji might never say anything, might’ve even fallen asleep, and when he finally did speak, he thought he’d imagined it at first.

“Ichigo…” Renji began, his hand tensing in the dirt. “When I was a kid, I got touched…” Ichigo’s throat dried up and he sat motionless against Renji’s back, listening to Renji’s quiet raspy voice.

“It was really bad... and for a long time afterwards, it fucked me up and I couldn’t get over it. I never wanted to feel that awful and small again.” Renji sighed, but didn’t stop, his voice steady enough, but the pain came through in the way he balled his hand into a fist.

“I was totally fucked up, Ichigo. I started having sex pretty young because of it, like fourteen… and it just sucked, ‘cuz,” he paused to think, “I dunno’, there was this fear just… following me... of being trapped.”

There was so much Ichigo wanted to say, to scream, he wanted to stop this and tell him, please, he didn’t want to hear, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to speak, couldn’t bring himself not to listen.

“I slept around like a goddamn dog to try to feel in control of that fear, but really, I dunno’. At least that’s what it felt like at the time. When I look back on it, I'm not sure what I was trying to do, really. Whatever,” he sighed, and was quiet for another minute or so.

“Still, for the longest time I couldn’t escape that thing, I couldn’t get past that hangup… Y’know, I couldn’t… _you know,”_ he muttered. “I couldn’t let anyone do that to me. Not again.”

“Mhm,” Ichigo acknowledged, having promised not to speak.

“Anyway,” Renji said quietly, “after I started hanging around with you, I felt a lot better. More in control of that feeling, y’know,” he explained. “Happier…” Ichigo stared blindly, everything inside him having gone still and quiet.

“It felt like you got me, like… you understood why I do the things I do,” he rasped. “I told you things I've never told anyone about myself, and you didn't stop coming around, you didn't look at me different. It felt like you really saw the me I've always tried to hide," Renji said, "but it didn't feel like I had to hide anymore." Ichigo's lips parted.   "And I fell for you like _mad.”_

His hand twitched in the dirt, fidgeting. “I thought, maybe, this is a sure thing. I can try this, I can try dating. I thought, yeah,” he muttered, “you and I can have something worthwhile. I thought, I can trust this guy, I can give my heart to you and we can be together. I’ve never felt like I could do that before.”

Ichigo listened in silence, Renji’s warmth pressing into his back.

“So I tried to get you to like me the way I liked you, y'know, flirt with you, and you didn't pull away, so I thought I should tell you how I felt,” Renji continued, “and then when you accepted my feelings and we got closer, it felt like I finally trusted someone enough that I could let that happen-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Not just let it happen… I _wanted_ to.”

He rubbed his hand on his face, huffing incredulously. “I'd been thinking about it for a while, and like you read my mind, you just asked me out of the blue, and there was nothing for me to say but yes. And that was so crazy, that I could wanna’ do that and that I could let someone that close to that fear and to those feelings – but the thing was, it wasn’t hard to do.”

And Ichigo knew what he was talking about now. He understood everything, it all fit, that night when he’d asked Renji to change things around, and Renji had given him that long unsmiling look, but said yes anyway. How he’d held him in silence and let him in, lying so still, so docile, and then afterwards had showered him with affection for the rest of the night.

“It wasn’t scary, having you there,” Renji confessed. “I’d thought for so long I’d feel trapped again, that it would be a struggle, but… but no.” He squeezed Ichigo’s hand in his.

“And… when we did it, it felt like for the first time in my life, it wasn’t an escape or to pass the time or for fun. That wasn’t the point. It was you,” he said, gripping his fingers tight. “It was just you. I wasn’t scared at all.”

Ichigo gave a small smile, and those charred shredded branches inside him somehow someway sprouted a little bud and burst open.  
  


“And being able to say that and to know that I’ve made it to this point feels… fuckin’ beautiful,” Renji whispered. “Do you get it?”  
  


“Yeah.” He did. He got that better than anything else.  
  


“And so we did it,” Renji sped through, “ya-da ya-da, and it was peaches and roses, important milestone, whatever.”

“... And then what?” Ichigo prompted at last. He could feel Renji sigh.

“A little after you an’ I got done, he messaged me, like he’d been doing for a while, but that time it was bad,” Renji said shortly, and Ichigo clenched Renji’s hand in his grip, because he remembered now, how much Renji had been fucking around on his phone on their roadtrip. He realized then that Byakuya had bothered Renji for that entire weekend, trying to contact him.  
  


“Made things pretty plain. Gave me a choice. You know what he asked me ta’ do.”  
  


Ichigo swallowed and closed his eyes, resting his head back on Renji’s.

“And it wasn’t that awesome, amazing, perfect thing I’d just accomplished with you, it was the thing I’ve dreaded and hated and run from for my entire fucking life.”

Renji grit his teeth. “For the longest time I never caved for his advances no matter what he threw at me because I promised no one’s gonna’ fucking abuse me ever again,” he grit out. “But then,” he croaked, “you were lyin’ in bed behind me after we did this amazing beautiful thing, and I thought about never feeling that again, my life going down the drain, losing everything I have… and I didn’t know what to do.”

Ichigo looked up. “I got so scared, that…” Renji paused. “Ichigo, I can’t let this slip through my fingers.” He held Ichigo’s hand in his.

“College was my fresh start. You were my fresh start,” he breathed, “I just got so fucking scared that I… Before I knew it, it was over and… I… I couldn’t take it back…” His voice caught unexpectedly. “I didn’t know what to do after that, so I tried to tell you what was happening… I’d kept you out of it up until then because I was dealing with it, but now…”

Ichigo let Renji cling to his hand.  
  


“Ichigo, I dunno’ how to get out of this.”

Ichigo thought back on those words Rukia had said. Renji thought he knew what he wanted, but at some point he can’t handle it and gets scared. When Renji got scared, he cut and ran – and Renji didn’t know how to run from this one. Renji’s whole life has built around being afraid of feeling trapped, caged, and everything he did was to try to avoid feeling that way. He can’t run away from this one though, he couldn’t escape.

   But Ichigo will help him. Ichigo will get him out of this.  
  


"Whatever happens, you won't be alone," Ichigo told him. "You and me together. I swear."


	23. Ichigo Has a Plan

_Can I be the only hope for you, because you're the only hope for me - and if we can't find where we belong, we'll have to make it on our own, face all the pain and take it on, because the only hope for me is you alone._  


_. . ._

 

  After spending most of the afternoon in the woods, Ichigo took Renji back to his dorm.  
  


They were trying to act normally, but it was clear that things had changed forever, and after recovering from opening up so fully to each other, there was a sort of tense shame filling the air between them, at least on Renji’s side. Ichigo wondered if maybe he hadn’t been sensitive or understanding enough, because Renji had gone right back to his typical reaction of clamming up rather than speak on something personal.

Ichigo kept urging him to open up and talk more about what Byakuya had done so they could find a solution, but Renji was tight-lipped and resistant.

He and Renji sat around in his room trying to relax and eat something, but it was annoyingly silent. Ichigo couldn’t think of anything more to say, how to comfort someone who had gone into their shell, and instead jittered with frustration.

Things just got worse when Grimmjow arrived home, apparently having left to look for him some time ago. “There you are, what-” He halted in the doorway and swelled with rage, growing red in the face, and Ichigo gave a sigh, putting his hand to his eyes. How was he going to explain this one.

“What the _fuck_ is _he_ doing here?!” Grimmjow hollered, pointing accusingly at Renji and kicking the door shut behind him.

“Grimmjow, just-” Ichigo tried, but Grimmjow cut him off harshly, his eyes narrowed and his expression severe. Renji just stared back calmly, resigned.

“Is it true?” he snapped, referring to the supposed rumor.

Renji was silent for a moment or two, and then just said, “Yeah,” and Grimmjow threw his hands up, heaving with rage, but seeming to be trying his hardest to hold back from violence.

He looked to Ichigo, as if waiting for him to react somehow, and then was incredulous and furious when he did no such thing. “Kurosaki!” he barked, “He _fucked Kuchiki Byakuya_ and you ain’t gonna’ hit him in the face, ain’t gonna’ say shit?”

“Grimm,” Ichigo began calmly, “I think you’d better leave.”

“Yeah, you heard him, you-” Grimmjow began, but then did a double take and stepped back in outrage. “What, _me?!_ Ichigo, what the fuck?!”

“Grimm, please,” he tried, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really did appreciate Grimmjow’s sudden protective side, but the guy was almost impossible to cool down unless he was alone with him, and he didn’t want to send Renji away.

“No, this is _bullshit,”_ Grimmjow snapped, voice high with disbelief and offense.

“If you’re not gonna’ be helpful, then-”

“No, fuck you, I _am_ being helpful,” he shouted, “You’re not thinking straight!”

Ichigo came towards him, holding his hands up when Grimmjow bared his teeth and raised his arms, as if to lunge for Renji right there. “Grimm, you _have_ to stop,” he insisted firmly.

“I’m not stoppin' _nothing!_   How'd he convince you to forgive him, huh?! He didn’t even give you any proof, I _know_ he didn’t!” Grimmjow threw out an arm towards Renji, who was tight-lipped and stony-faced. “You’re just looking for an excuse to crawl back!”

Ichigo tried to speak, but Grimmjow glared into his eyes beseechingly, “I _know_ you, Ichigo,” he seethed.

“You wanna’ believe the best from people, but let me tell you, some people don’t _have_ a best. You think if you dig long enough or just keep being nice to them for long enough that they’ll finally treat you good and be better, but some people will just let you down and drive you into the dirt and do _shitty_ things to you time after time no matter what you do for them.”

Ichigo let his jaw shut, eyes blinking in surprise at the sudden lash out. “Some people can’t stop fucking things up, some people are fucking pieces of shit,” Grimmjow insisted, “You’ve gotta’ learn when not to forgive.”

At some point he’d stopped talking about Renji and more about their own relationship, and Ichigo just hurt all over, but he still didn’t know what to say.

Grimmjow broke off, panting and scowling, and Renji tentatively broke the silence.  
  


   “Woah man.”  
  


They both looked at him, Grimmjow’s hackles raising as he remembered he was there, listening.

“Do you… need a hug or something?” Renji wondered, and Ichigo slapped his forehead. Grimmjow tried to get at him again, leaving Ichigo to jump in front of him and try to hold him back, which just got Grimmjow and Renji both a little more steamed with each other.

“You stay the _fuck_ outta’ this,” Grimmjow hissed in Renji’s face. “He might never shut up about you when you’re not around, but you’re _not_ his friend,” he snapped. Renji set his jaw but didn’t retort. “Maybe you’ve fucked him, but you _don’t know him.”_

When Grimmjow pointed in his face, Renji didn’t so much as lean away, although he did glare at Grimmjow’s finger. “I’m like a cockroach, motherfucker,” he spat, “I’ve been here before you and I’ll be here long after you’re gone! So _shut the fuck up!_ ”

Ichigo was a little bit touched, honestly, because he knew that Grimmjow was just mad because he felt protective over him, especially after last night, telling him for the first time in their long troubled relationship that he loved and valued him as a friend. Of course Grimmjow was going to hold on really goddamn tight after that. He’s always known he was Grimmjow’s only real friend, but whoah, sheesh, he hadn’t expected him to get so riled up. He was actually scared Grimmjow might try to literally kill Renji if given the chance.

“Grimmjow-” he tried again.

“Take it down a notch,” Renji finally said, his voice calm but with a sharp edge to it as he stuck his chin out at Grimmjow.

“Ichigo, I’m tryina’ help you out here, but I can’t do that if you’re gonna’ keep being dumb as shit,” he growled. “You can’t just-” he said exasperatedly, enraged. “You’re gonna’ let this-!”

He got in Ichigo’s face, and Ichigo was used to the aggressive behavior, but not the desperation in his eyes. He didn’t feel afraid or threatened in the least by Grimmjow looming over him, but Renji however, seemed to think he was in real danger – which made sense, considering Grimmjow could get pretty scary – and put an arm between them, trying to get his body between him and Grimmjow.

This seemed to enrage Grimmjow beyond belief, because his cheeks puffed up to yell, but he just sputtered and tried to lunge for Renji.

Ichigo grabbed his shirt collar, which turned Grimmjow’s rage back on him, and for a moment he thought Grimmjow really _would_ try to hurt him or grab him by the neck. “Stop!”

“Oi, knock it off,” Renji demanded, still trying to get Ichigo behind him, and Ichigo honestly didn’t know what to do, feeling like the rope in a tug-of-war game. “He didn’t do anything. Your beef’s with me.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Grimmjow snarled, a sinister gleam in his eyes. “I’ll kick your ass first. You’re not gonna’ pull that shit around here, Verga. You’re not gonna’ yank him around.”

“I had no choice,” Renji growled.

“Bullshit. I know what you’re like.”

“You want proof, do you?” Renji challenged.

“Yeah. Actual solid proof that whatever shit you did with Kuchiki on the DL is whatever you say it was.” They began a silent staredown, and Ichigo glanced between them.

“Grimm,” Ichigo tried, because they seemed to have completely forgotten him, and he was just waiting on the sidelines for them to finally lunge for each other. “You’re not involved in this, why the hell do you even-”

“No Ichigo, it’s okay,” Renji said, not breaking eye-contact. “... I have audio,” he admitted. “I thought I might need it,” he said lower, the fire seeping out of him. He broke his stare and took his phone out, seeming to dread what was coming.

He fiddled with it for a moment and then set it on the table upside down, and Ichigo realized it was video, not just audio. When it began playing, he was almost glad he didn’t have to see it too, because hearing it was bad enough.

It’s not that he’d thought Renji had been lying before, but hearing that voice put ice through his veins, made his heart pound in his throat, really made it _real,_ because he recognized Byakuya as clear as day. There was no mistaking it.

The audio was bad, very crackly, as if Renji had kept his phone shoved in his pocket or his shoe, or even a stuffed backpack.  
  


    ‘ _-told you not to call me that when we’re alone-...’_  
  


A lot of it was indecipherable, but Renji’s voice was clear and loud in the mic. _‘But that would be disrespectful,’_ Ichigo heard him say with a certain reluctance, hesitance, and Ichigo can imagine it, Renji sitting in the chair in an office, across from Kuchiki, separated by a desk.  
  


  ‘...- _in the eyes when I speak to you.’_

 

 _‘Sorry Professor.’_ Ichigo’d never heard Renji sound like that.

 

The tape cut and there was silence for a moment or two where the three of them just stood around the table, speechless. Renji cleared his throat and picked the phone up, playing another clip. This one was louder, and Ichigo began to feel sick and fidgety at the harsh tones in both voices.

 

_‘How many times must we go through this before you realize you have no other options?’_  
  


_‘You can’t shut me up with a threat,’_ he heard Renji snap. _‘_ _I’ll go to the police. I don’t give a fucking_ shit _. I don’t have anything to lose, unlike you.’_ There was some heavy breathing, and Renji said again, _‘I’ll tell the police all about your dirty talk and you’ll be out. Then Rukia and the whole world will know what you are.’_  
  


Ichigo was stunned when he heard Byakuya speak, in the same calm cold composed tone as he always did. _‘On the contrary. You stand quite a lot to lose.’_  
  


There was silence for a time, almost enough that he’d thought the tape had ended, but Renji finally said lowly, _‘Get away from me.’_  
  


    Renji grit his teeth, picked the phone up, and turned another one on.

 

It began with silence and this weird crackling sound that Ichigo eventually realized with Renji breathing. _‘Whoa, just… take it easy,’_ he eventually rasped.  
  


        _‘Cross me and I will ruin you.’_

 

Ichigo closed his eyes and scrubbed his face, turning away, but unable to block it out. Another one began playing. Renji tried to turn it off, but they still could hear a few seconds of a struggle.

 

      _‘On your knees where you belong.’_

 

 _‘You bastard.’_ Renji’s growl cracked halfway through, and Ichigo couldn’t bear it any longer. Renji turned it off, and silence rang out.

Ichigo just stood there for a moment, and tried to say something. Renji wouldn’t so much as look at him, just staring at the floor.

 

      “...”

 

“... Renji,” he rasped, his throat dry. His fingers shook. He’d never felt so scared for someone. “You’ve gotta’ tell someone about this.”

Grimmjow hadn’t said anything or reacted until that point, but then he moved, shaking his head and growling, “I’m calling my dad.”

  

      Suddenly coming alive, Renji looked up and said, _“No!”_

 

“Grimm,” Ichigo tried, but Renji was the one getting in Grimmjow’s face then.

 

“You don’t say a fucking word about this to Aizen,” he demanded. Grimmjow, to his credit, didn’t shove him, just glared into both of his eyes and didn’t back away.

 

“Renji, you have to tell _someone,”_ Ichigo said in exasperation.

 

“No, no,” Renji exhaled, rubbing a hand over the top of his head and taking a few steps away. “What I’ve gotta’ do is play it cool.” He shook his head and said, “Maybe I can ride this out until the end of the semester.”

Irritated, Grimmjow grunted, “The only thing you’ll be riding out if you do that is Kuchiki’s dick.”

Renji screwed his face up in frustration, growling and rubbing his fists on his head.

“Listen man,” Grimmjow said, “That’s some crooked shit, right there,” and Ichigo was pleasantly surprised that Grimmjow hadn’t doubled down in his anger towards Renji, because he hated to be proven wrong in any circumstance and was known to stick to his guns no matter what if it meant he didn't have to eat crow. 

“This whole thing is about manipulating you, right?” he surmised, “Well you have to turn it around on him then. How can you manipulate Kuchiki, huh?” Ichigo hadn’t expected him to take this seriously or offer any real help, but then again, Grimmjow was smart when he wanted to be, and it looked like he was onto something.

“The biggest way to get under a rich powerful guy’s skin is bad publicity.”

Renji sighed, looking away with a set jaw. “I can’t do that without bringing myself down with him.”

    “Get away from him then.”

“I dunno’ what he’ll do if I try to transfer without doing what he wants,” Renji explained. “I might not get accepted anywhere else. It’s a risk.”

“Who’s close to him then,” Grimmjow shot off, immediately switching gears, “Ain’t he got a sister?”

Renji was quiet for a long time, and Ichigo looked anxiously into his face, which was largely impassive. “Rukia can’t know,” he said at last, very quietly.

“What else ya’ got?”

“Look,” Renji sighed, “I appreciate the concern, but there’s no way to guarantee that if I take him down, he won’t ruin my life in the process-”

“No, _you_ look,” Grimmjow retorted, obviously not appreciating being patronized. “I know all about this scandal shit. You just gotta’ out-blackmail his blackmail,” he insisted. “What about that annoying reporter guy you’re friends with?” he said, snapping his fingers. “He literally does this same shit to me all the time. At least until I figured out he has a boner for that sorority chick and shut him right up.”

Ichigo frowned. He hadn’t considered Hisagi. “... He did just get an internship with the local news,” Renji conceded. “And he’s into investigative journalism. And anonymous hacking. Plus he does know about this already.”

    Ichigo suddenly wondered about the pictures and who’d sent them to him. Could it be that…? Hm…  
  


“I guess I could call him,” Renji agreed.

 

   “Super,” Grimmjow replied flatly.

 

Ichigo looked between them cautiously, but it seemed the situation had miraculously been defused. To his amazement, after a final sharp look at each other, they separated. Grimmjow threw himself on his bed, and ignored the both of them, and Renji sighed, and went in the hall to make the phonecall.

“Grimm, why are you being nice to him? I mean, I’m not complaining…”

“I hate assholes who pick on others who can’t fight back. It’s pathetic. Besides, Kuchiki failed me twice.”

  “Yeah okay.”

 

Ichigo went and stuck his head in the sink and tried to process all this.

 

Unwilling to let Renji got out on his own, Ichigo convinced him to stay the night, and other than threatening to grab a knife if they started humping in the same room as him, Grimmjow let him stay with relatively little fuss.

Ichigo would’ve thought that things would’ve settled down now that they seemed to be making progress on an answer to this mess, but Renji didn’t say hardly anything to him for rest of the night, and although he stretched his arm out towards him during his sleep later on, he’d still been too ashamed to look him in the eye or say more than goodnight.


	24. Ichigo Says Goodbye

_Still the rain kept pouring, falling on my ears, and I wonder, still I wonder who'll stop the rain._

_. . ._

 

Hisagi luckily was more than happy to remotely hack the necessary phones and laptops and collect audio files, make a case of it all, and write an official article alleging sexual harassment and bring it to the attention of the school board and campus officers.

In the meantime, Ichigo, Hisagi, and Renji spent a lot of time together. Ichigo, not liking just waiting around, began to tick Renji off with his constant pacing.

“What do we do?” he mumbled, hands on his head as he walked from one end of Renji’s dorm to the other. “What are we gonna’ do?... What are we… What.”

 _“I_  know,” Renji said sarcastically, as if having come up with an idea. “How about you stop saying the same thing over and over again. It _sucks.”_

  “What did you say?!”

“Cut it out, guys,” Hisagi intervened when they got in each other’s faces for the dozenth time. “C’mere, I think I have something.”

They crowded around Hisagi’s laptop and read what all of he’d collected. It had taken a few days, but they were ready to go. Ichigo was satisfied enough, but when he looked over at Renji, he didn’t see relief, only more stress.

When Renji resisted releasing the findings and going public, he and Hisagi had it out. “Look, you’ve _got_ to bring this to Aizen’s attention.”

“I don’t trust him, Shuuhei,” Renji insisted stubbornly.

“I know, okay?” he said, in the knowing way of a supportive and comforting friend. Ichigo watched, fascinated by the exchange as Renji’s shoulders sagged. “I know. But you’ve gotta’.”

Renji squirmed and paced a bit himself, biting on his lip, but eventually he agreed. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, yeah.”

“You can handle this, Renji.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” he sighed, resigning himself to the uncomfortable fallout that would ensue.  
  


    They went forward with their plan, which was to send an initial threat to Kuchiki through an anonymous email to back off and leave Renji alone or they would leak some sensitive info about the whole thing to Byakuya’s employers and others that did business with his family. Renji didn’t like it, but he seemed ready for it.

Ichigo went home after they dispersed, and a day or so went by. He knew by now that Byakuya should have received their message, but Renji hadn’t contacted him to let him know of any new developments. Ichigo knew this was a sensitive time and he needed as much space as possible, but he couldn’t help but worry.

Especially after he came across Byakuya later in the afternoon with a stormcloud over his head, Ichigo changed his mind about leaving it, thinking Renji might be hurt or something. He showed up in the administrative building, about damn ready to tell those stuffy fuckers _himself_ about what was going on.

To his surprise and dismay, he saw Renji there already, standing in the hallway outside Aizen’s door, clutching his backpack straps and looking a strange combination of skittish and agitated, and altogether alone.

Ichigo gave a sigh, a fond grimace creasing the side of his mouth as he came to a stop some distance away. “Why’re you slouching like that?” he called. “Is your backpack that heavy?”

Renji’s head snapped up and he whipped around in surprise. “What’re you doing here!” he accused.  
  


    “I came to help.”  
  


“Ichigo…” Renji deflated, looking at him like he was hurting, _dying,_ guilty, grateful-

  
“Yeah,” was all Ichigo said, because he got it.

  
“Sorry,” Renji began, staring at the ground. “... You had to come and-”  
  


“What,” Ichigo said loudly, coming towards him. “You look pretty exhausted considering you were only carrying this shitty backpack,” he snarked. “Was it that heavy to climb some stairs with it on?”  
  


Renji’s spine straightened in righteous anger, and Ichigo smirked; all according to plain.  
  


“Hah?! What are you implying?” he demanded, steamed, “You look a little pale in the face yourself. Shouldn’t you be at home?”  
  


“What? Is that what you say to the guy who just came to save your ass?”  
  


_“Are you an idiot?!”_ Renji whisper-shrieked, “I was trying to thank you! But then you-!”  
  


      “Duuuummy,” Ichigo drawled, “O-renji juice.”  
  


“Gah!” Renji burst. “Fuck you, Ichigo, why are you here?” Voice wrenching as he got in Ichigo’s face, he fumed, “To laugh at me?! Why are you here at the moment I can’t get any lower? To view the wreck?!”

Gritting his teeth, he raged sarcastically, “That dumbass punk got himself into it again, he can’t stop fucking up his life; _it’s entertaining!_ Watch him crawl the walls!” Ichigo calmly stood there and let Renji yell in his face. “Why the fuck’re you here, huh? I oughta’-”

He turned for a moment and then whipped back around on him, clenching his hands. “Why don’t you just admit I’m a fucking charity project for you? Why don’t you just _go!”_

   “You done?”

Renji heaved with anger, staring at him wide-eyed. “I don’t fucking understand you,” he finally gasped.  
  


     Ichigo smiled. “Yeah, you do,” he said, “You do.”  
  


That paused the argument, and they stood there for a moment and looked at each other. Renji gazed at him the way he had after Ichigo had sat in the bleachers and told him his tattoos looked cool, was silent the way he’d been after he’d told him that any reason to help others was a good one, he held eye-contact like he had the last time they’d made love and Renji had held his hand to his chest as if he could touch his heart and feel it, and in that moment, they did understand each other. They did, perfectly.

 

    “So this is Aizen’s office?” Ichigo hummed, turning to the door, and by mutual agreement, the previous fight was dropped and forgotten.  Renji turned and looked at the door too with an anticipatory sigh.

“Do you think you can do this?” Ichigo nudged. “You know, we can leave and just email him too,” he suggested. “We’ve got enough dirt.”

Renji turned and looked him in the eye then, that same expression still on his face. “No,” he said slowly. “I’m not running.”

“Huh?” Ichigo hummed.

“Feel like shit, but I can still fight.”

    “Fine then,” he agreed. “Double team.”  
  


Ichigo offered his hand out, like Renji once had on his sofa, wet with saliva. Renji looked at him for a second and then they clapped their hands together and went into the office.

 

. . .

 

The following day, Ichigo was sitting outside on a bench, waiting anxiously. Renji was set to confront Byakuya today, alone. Their talk with Aizen hadn’t gone well initially, but he’d gotten a mysterious call in the middle of their meeting and had changed his mind and agreed to help them if they chose to press the issue.

It was up to Renji to confront Byakuya directly though, and he’d told Ichigo earlier, “I’ve gotta’ do this part alone.” He was going to try to get Byakuya to sign a mutual non-disclosure agreement. Backed up with the undeniable evidence and Aizen’s influence, Ichigo didn’t know how Byakuya could possibly refuse, but well, he was rich enough to afford a really good lawyer if need be.

Ichigo just waited and waited for Renji to call and let him know what had happened, and when he did, he sounded extremely grim. Yeah, he’d gotten him to sign it. No, Byakuya hadn’t hurt him – he hadn’t tried anything. Yes, he’s okay. No, he didn’t need anything, don’t bother coming over. 

And that was that, at least that was the case until Ichigo decided to drop by and check on him – you know, just in case – and he heard that jerk – Buzzy-Bee? – from that party ages ago talking with Renji. He slowed and came to a stop outside the door and listened as the stomped around in there.  
  


    “Fuck, man, really-”  
  


“Shit,” Renji muttered, his voice muffled through the wall but still clear enough that Ichigo could pick out every word.   “Ichigo’s gonna’ be pissed when he sees this.” He couldn’t deny that those words seriously alarmed him. He was already imagining the worst.  
  


   “Who?”  
  


“My boyfriend, I’ve told you like-” Renji gave up, exasperated. “Ugh! Kurosaki.”  
  


“Oh yeah.” There came some more stomping, at which Mohawk-guy shouted, “Dude, stop pacing and put some ice on that shit!”

    Renji hissed something back, too quietly to be heard.

“Well I think you oughta’ say something… Fine, fine, geez,” Pink-hair grumbled, at which Ichigo finally knocked on the door.  
  


“Hey!” he called, and they both went quiet inside. “What the fuck’s going on?”  
  


_“Shit,”_ he heard them whisper to each other.  
  


Chicken-head opened the door, awkwardly standing there and taking up as much space as possible, obviously to block him. Without even asking what he wanted, he muttered, “Uhh, he’s… in the shower.”

“Bullshit, let me through,” Ichigo demanded, shoving past him, “Fucking let me through!”

“Look, Ichigo, don’t get mad, it’s no big deal,” Renji said, having turned his back and put a hand to his face.  
  
“You’re fucking freaking me out, knock it off!” He grabbed Renji’s shoulder and turned him around to find that he had a pretty bad bruise to the side of his nose and most of his cheek.  

“It’s not even bleeding,” Renji tried to soothe, but Ichigo blew his stack anyway.

“What the fuck?! You said he didn’t hurt you, you fucking liar!”

“Look, this is nothing,” Renji insisted, taking Ichigo’s arms and holding him at arm's length. “I’m okay. I’m okay, it doesn’t hurt, honest, Ichigo, _honest._ I’m okay now, I promise. Aw, please don’t look so upset.”

“Look at your goddamn face! _Fucking look at your face!_ Why didn’t you tell me you guys fought?!”  
  


    “I couldn’t.”  
  


_“Why?”_ he demanded, hating how squeaky his voice was getting. Damnit, he should’ve been there, he shouldn’t have let Renji go by himself!

Renji looked to the side and sighed, inadvertently showing off the bruising. At last he said, “Look, it doesn’t matter now. It’s over.” He gave Ichigo a long look and managed a grim smile, “It’s really over.”

“It’s over?” Ichigo repeated back in disbelief, still focusing on Renji’s purple face.

“Yeah,” Renji said again with more confidence, encouraged. “I’m free,” he said. “I’ll be okay now, whatever comes.”  
  


     And there you go, it was all wrapped up.  
  


It seemed a bit anticlimactic really. After letting Ichigo know it was well and truly over, Renji didn’t contact him much. They didn’t get much chance to talk about things or see each other, and Ichigo had a feeling of hanging in midair.

He found out from Grimmjow that he had told his dad about it after all, which explained that phone call that had changed Aizen’s mind. Apparently, he’d talked to the board, and Renji had been provided another scholarship and had his ordeal struck from the record for his troubles. Even so, Renji had decided to transfer, and got an apartment with Shuuhei a town over.

They’d managed to touch base a few times, and understandably, Renji was still really tired and distant. Ichigo didn’t know where they stood in all this anymore. It seemed like their relationship was over, at least the way it had been in the early days. He thinks he’s okay with it, in fact, he may have already accepted it.

Grimmjow seemed uneasy with his resigned calm attitude following the whole situation. He hadn’t quit with the new protective borderline-nice attitude, and Ichigo suspected that would be a permanent thing between them now. The annoying thing was that Grimmjow was acting like a helicopter. If Ichigo got quiet for too long, he’d hover and get really nosy.

At last, he and Renji met up to spend time together, and although it wasn’t outwardly awkward, it was different and stilted somehow. They smiled at each other as always and spoke easily, but they didn’t touch at all or approach too close, like they were old friends who had been apart for too long.

Speaking of… Ichigo had played a trick on him. He’d been planning this for a while actually, to force Renji and Rukia to reconcile, so today, he hadn’t told Renji that he’d also invited Rukia to meet up. He didn’t know how they would react when they saw each other, but he hoped it would work out well enough.

As he and Renji approached the cafe that he always ate at with Rukia, he could tell the exact moment Renji realized what was going on, because he stiffened up and stopped in his tracks for a moment, and then gave a weak excuse to try to split.  
  


“Ahh, I forgot, I still have a lot of work to do moving into my new place,” he muttered, making to stop and turn, but Ichigo grabbed his arm, calling him out on his bullshit.  
  


“I thought Hisagi finished with that. C’mon,” he insisted, “Let’s hang out for old times.” Renji grimaced.  
  


“I have to get my resume finished this afternoon, I don’t have time for you!” Rukia was approaching by then, and Renji was beginning to speak in this hushed tense voice, through his teeth. He wouldn’t look at her at all. She came closer, but stopped a ways away, hesitantly.  
  


“Want me to help you?” Ichigo offered, refusing to act weird or acknowledge their refusal to admit that they loved each other, damnit!  
  


    “No!” Renji shouted, “Just go home!!”  
  


“You are so rude,” Ichigo replied mildly.  
  


Rukia let out a laugh then, approaching tentatively and noting, “You two are like an old married couple.” Her smile was one that would be used when coming towards a friend and someone you’ve never met before, polite and friendly enough, but strained.  
  


  “Not true!”  
  


     “You take that shit back!” they shouted together, and Rukia really did smile then.  
  


Renji and Rukia looked at each other finally, and seemed shy at first, but Ichigo got them into the cafe and kept them talking, and any remaining bad feeling between them seemed to dissipate within an hour or so. Really, Ichigo didn't know what had taken them so long. To him, it seemed like they'd never even been apart.

At some point during the exchange, Ichigo got up and excused himself so that they could reconnect in private, and after weeks of stress and a sort of acceptant emptiness, he felt warm at seeing Renji’s smile, the relief and joy in his face.

Ichigo talked to Grimmjow that afternoon, still unable to get this little smile off his mouth, like his muscles were stuck like that. He told him that he felt like the floor was going to fall out any second.  
  


“Okay,” Grimmjow huffed, “I know the shit I’ve been telling you this entire time, and I know it was all bullshit, but listen to me this time.” Giving Ichigo a grimace, he said, “Seriously. You’re my bud. And buds are honest with each other.” Ichigo nodded, urging him on when he didn’t say anything else, instead watching at him for a long with with that smart look.

“You can’t let this shit slide. Hold onto that fucker. He’s a fuckin’ weasel and-” When Ichigo breathed through his nose and made to brush him off, Grimmjow jumped on it, “No, I’m telling you, I know this shit. You’ve seen him at the absolute bottom.”  
  


   “Renji knows I don’t pity him.”  
  


“It doesn’t make a difference,” Grimmjow insisted flatly. “I’m telling you, if you let him, he’s gonna’ back out.”

“Whatever man, if that’s what he wants… then,” Ichigo trailed off, shrugging, not knowing where he was going with that, because he didn’t like the idea at all.

“What the fuck?” Grimmjow muttered, “Don’t tell me you’ve got limp-wrist.” When Ichigo just drew his lips in a tight line, he protested, “You can’t just-”

“Whatever, fine, I don’t wanna’ fight right now,” Ichigo sighed, rubbing his brow and closing his eyes. “We’ll see what happens.”  
  


    He didn’t see Renji again until that weekend, and they met up briefly. After Ichigo asked how things were going with Rukia, Renji was effusive, saying how happy he was by the progress they’d made, however small. Apparently, Rukia was warming up to him a little – at least that was Renji’s interpretation of it. From what Ichigo had seen, the both of them had melted completely towards each other, and just needed to time to get used to one another again.

“So,” Renji finally said, hands in his pockets, and Ichigo smiled a bit, because he finally looked like his old self again, bubbly and glowing with confidence, “What’re you gonna’ do now that finals are over?”

Ichigo rubbed his hair, and couldn’t help but feel the distance between them, as if bringing Renji back to Rukia had opened up this chasm under their feet, as if all that pain and difficulty of the ordeal with those pictures and those stressful nights had put them on opposite poles. They felt like strangers.

“Ah, gonna’ drop by my parents' place for a bit, maybe look into getting an apartment,” Ichigo shared, and there still was that little bit of hope inside of him, that there was still something left, that there was a chance.

“I know you just moved into a new place, but I thought, maybe…” He scratched his neck, feeling nervous like he hadn’t since before they’d begun seeing each other. “... I dunno’, you wouldn’t think about rooming with me, would you?”

Renji’s smile fell at that, and Ichigo immediately realized that Grimmjow was right. He saw that the distance hadn’t been imagined, that it really was time. The whole thing had been sweet, but he’d held on for too long, and like chocolate in his hand, it all had melted away. All that was left were those memories they had together, the colors still smeared on his palm, but nothing else was there.

“Ichigo,” Renji began, almost apologetically, like his last intention was to hurt him, and Ichigo wished he hadn’t said anything, because he didn’t want a pity-goodbye, like Renji had obviously given to hundreds of others. “What we’ve had has been great. You’re a great guy,” he said.  
  


Ichigo nodded, and more than ever, he wanted it over with, the impersonal words. “I’m just not looking for that type of commitment."  
 

Ichigo was disappointed, of course, but not crushed. He’d seen this coming, after all. He’d expected it really, just as he had last time Renji had grown distant, but unlike last time, he hadn’t been in denial despite prevalent signs. He’d been better prepared.

He considered himself lucky, honestly. He knew things about Renji that most didn’t. Most people didn’t know he wore those bandannas and sunglasses because he was sensitive about his eyebrows. Most people didn’t know he hated spicy food because when he’d been young, he’d been punished with pepper seeds when spanking hadn’t worked. Not many knew that he could be instantly pacified by playing with his hair, like a wild dog gone docile for a belly-rub – or that despite his gorgeous smile, he had once rotted out all his teeth from surviving a winter on Halloween candy. Not everyone knew he went completely gooey if a woman – any woman – called him ‘honey.’

Not everyone knew about his kind and loving heart or the insecurity and the inferiority complex his bravado and extroversion hid – or maybe they did. Maybe Renji let all his paramours see those things, maybe he hadn't really been different or special to Renji, but Ichigo had felt like he was, and he was glad he'd gotten to feel like that. He was so glad that he had gotten to see that heart and those things, for however long. Renji had shared that with him, had let him in, had given him that flower for just one season, and Ichigo was thankful for that.

Standing there in the crisp air on the crunchy dying grass, hands in their pockets, Ichigo thought… maybe he would’ve liked to stay with Renji forever – and know him and bask in the glow of all those things that, for a little while, had been just for him, a special secret that only he’d known.  Maybe he would’ve liked to grow and flourish in Renji’s heart until he fit perfectly inside there, and Renji in his, until his heart and Renji’s couldn’t be untangled, like the roots of two trees planted next to each other.  
  


Maybe once there had been a chance that Renji would have liked to stay too. Maybe Renji could have let Ichigo be that person.  
  


But this was it, _goodbye,_ and 'maybe' and 'could have' didn’t mean anything to the real world. Here they were, and this was the last time, perhaps the last moment that Ichigo could look at him and really _see_ him. 

Already, Renji’s eyes were getting that sheen, that crinkle of a smirk to them that gave him his charm, made everyone love his amiable, affectionate, fiery personality. Already Renji was turning heel, keeping him at arm’s length and uprooting himself, disregarding the snapping vines and the dirt he was ripping up, if only to get away and start fresh in a new garden again, or maybe not even that – maybe he’d just blow on the wind like a dandelion seed, free and feather-light.  
  


But Ichigo was alright. He’d been prepared. Sure, it hurt, and he wished it could last longer, that it could be salvaged, but he got what was happening. He got why.  
  


Ichigo knew enough of Renji to know he wouldn’t appreciate being psycho-analysed, so he didn't say anything about it or confront him directly with the uncomfortable truth, but he felt he knew.

It was why Grimmjow had exploded, why he’d treated him like shit constantly day in and day out for so long and why he’d been furious and desperate for a moment there in their kitchen when Ichigo had continued to keep him in his life despite it.

Because Grimmjow knew guys like Renji, he knew them because he _was_ one – Grimmjow knew what it was like to have this out-of-control subconscious tendency to destroy and sabotage every interpersonal relationship and to run at the first sign of trouble. He knew what it was like to regret and wreck things and to feel shitty about himself but hide it by calling himself the best. He said that because deep down he felt like he was the worst. He knew how to function as though nothing could touch him. Grimmjow knew how not to admit to having feelings, because having real feelings meant that they could be hurt, it meant that there was the possibility for weakness somewhere inside him.

There was a ghost of Grimmjow there in Renji’s cheery disposition and friendly personality, his willingness to go to the ends of the earth to help someone he cared for, but the inability to invest that last little bit of trust, the inability to chain himself down with no escape hatch – because like Grimmjow, he inevitably destroyed what he wanted most to keep, and that was shitty and scary and awful, and it was so much easier to just not let that happen in the first place.

It was so much easier for Grimmjow to be a bastard and tell him to fuck off and stop caring about people, to stop forgiving shitty people who will never do right by him, who will never repay his efforts to find some good in them. It was so much easier for Renji to run before he could do something stupid like take a risk with that precious heart of his. It was so much easier to run or to blame, than to stop and ask why.

  
   Yes, Ichigo knew why Renji had to go.  
  


Renji had let him see all those secret things because he’d cared for him and trusted him, but then he’d let him see just a tiny bit too much. Letting Ichigo see that he’d caved, that he’d done something awful, disgusting, humiliating – that showed a new ugly, insecure, _small_ side of him that he hadn’t wanted anyone to see, and it must have scared him. And he’d run, just like Rukia had said he would.

Maybe he’d thought on some level that Ichigo wouldn’t love what he’d been shown as he loved the rest of him, that he was disappointed or revolted, or that the image Renji had built of himself was somehow irreparably marred by those moments of weakness. Maybe he’d thought Ichigo couldn’t want him, not _that_ him – and he’d been so terrified of hearing that rejection or having their special spark devolve into awkwardness or pity, or just feeling _them_ crumble in his hands, that he’d run before Ichigo could ever react, could ever hurt him, could ever say, _‘No, Renji, it’s not the same now. You weren’t what I thought.’_

It was like Grimmjow had said. Renji had let Ichigo see him at his worst, he’d come to him for help and let him know that he could be broken and that he still had hang-ups, that he’d let someone get the better of him. He’d allowed Ichigo to help pull him out of there, and then had followed the natural instinct of moving on, finding someone who hadn’t seen him kicked to the dirt, someone who hadn’t heard his voice break, someone who hadn’t heard him pour his soul out in the woods and tell him about the sad broken child he’d been, someone who didn’t _know_ those bad, small, scared parts.  
  


It was what he knew how to do; it was so much easier to avoid that fear than to risk being hurt, and Ichigo didn’t begrudge Renji his wings.  
  


So when Renji said he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment, when he ended this brief chapter of their lives with a rather melancholic and wretchedly unresolved _semicolon_ and a goodbye that held all of that same bravado and cheer Ichigo had been given while still living on the flipside of Renji’s skin, on the outside with the tattoos and the red hair and the distracting smirk – Ichigo got it. Ichigo was okay with that.

Because he’d seen the inside. He’d been let in for however small a time, and he’d seen, he’d been embraced by the soft, compassionate, and loving heart, the heart that called Renji to take care of hurt animals, to help the needy, to run himself ragged lending out his time, to be on call for each of his many friends as though they were his own blood – that heart that he’d used to hold and kiss and love Ichigo with.

Renji had picked him; he’d given him that red flower. He’d let him experience those buds. At least he’d gotten to hold it and appreciate it for the short time it had been in bloom.

So Ichigo smiled and nodded, and they shook hands and smacked each other’s shoulders. Renji ruffled him on the head and Ichigo grinned. He smiled and felt pretty okay.  
  


     “See ya’, buddy.”  
  


                  “Bye.”  
  


And Renji headed off looking on top of the world. There was no final kiss goodbye or tearful farewell. Renji didn’t come back or turn around for one last look or even so much as hesitate – he looked free as a bird, soaring and joyful and so _relieved,_ his steps so light and springy that it didn’t even cross Ichigo’s mind to call out to him, to stop his escape.

He just smoothed down the topsoil and filled up the hole in the dirt where the flower had been. And then it was raining again.

It rained and rained until the bumpy place was uniform and no one would’ve ever guessed anything had grown there. It rained until the patch was muddy and soft and soaked and then even after that, still more.  
  


          Always raining. Just like old times.


	25. Renji Gets the Guy

_[Coulda' filled](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86YVD49wnY8) a garden with all the flowers that you gave me, but none of them were ours; you know the problem with history, it keeps coming back like weeds.  _

_ And when nothing feels enough, at least you taught me how to love, how to love - but he keeps growing back like weeds. _

_ Baby, just open your eyes to see, he's growing from inside me - and I just don't know what to do; I thought I cut him at the root. _

_. . . _

 

Once the semester was over, everybody split off. Renji had dropped by to say his farewells, since he’d heard Ichigo was leaving town to go home for a while.  
  


‘ _ It was fun, Ichigo,’  _ Ichigo remembered their final conversation. ‘ _ We had some good times.’ _

_ ‘Yeah,’ _ he’d agreed.  
  


They might not see each other again since Renji was switching colleges and Ichigo was doing on-site training starting next fall. Renji and Rukia seemed to be closer than ever. Ichigo hasn’t seen her this happy in a long time.

Ichigo had been coping well enough. He’d borne through their last time together without any ill will towards Renji’s happiness, but he still thought about it a lot, still was sad over it a lot. 

But he got why Grimmjow called it a hollow-point smile now. Explosive and destructive like any other bullet, but empty inside, empty with the part that tore through you first. That wasn’t the worst of it either, because once it got inside of you, that’s when it caused the most damage. That’s when it really hurt, not when it first pierced you, but once you let it in there. That’s when the hollow point burst and the bullet expanded and gouged out as big a piece of you as it could. 

And once it finally halted somewhere in there, you bled and bled and  _ bled. _ Say you survived that blow, good luck ever dragging the pieces back out, because they scattered in the explosion and embedded themselves within your flesh, miniscule and never to be found.

And yeah, it had happened to him – he was the idiot without the bullet-vest who’d gotten the tiny scattered bits in him, and there was no point moaning about the blood in his mouth now. This was the bed he’d made, and you know how the saying goes – you've made you bed and now you have to lie in it with the dogs, don’t let the resulting proverbial fleas bite, sleep tight like a snug-bug in the rug, don’t open that can of worms for the early bird. Or something like that.

It all undeniably hurt and ached. Because he was living in the real world now, yet that pointlessly hopeful, wistful, and dreamy ‘could have’ was still there, this annoying little bud sprouting and ripping through his heart’s flesh in a futile search for that sunlight - it refused to die, no matter how it was choked in the onslaught of the flood.

Rukia had spoken to him since they’d split up, and she’d mentioned Renji – gently, of course – she’d told him he was doing alright, that they’ve been talking and that things were getting better between them. Ichigo was glad. Really he was. 

The only time it had really hurt was when Rukia had asked what had gone wrong, why things had stopped so suddenly after they’d been doing so well. Ichigo had no answer, nothing to tell her, because even though he understood, he didn’t really  _ know _ where things had gone wrong, he didn’t know what the last straw had been or the exact moment that they’d been driven apart - what had made Renji decided to walk away. He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

He said nothing other than tell her that they’d had a good run and that there were no hard feelings.

Rukia told him that she’d seen for herself that day when they’d all been together, that she’d known the moment she’d seen them together that she’d been wrong to tell him what she’d said in the beginning about Renji fooling around with him, because she’d seen how Renji had looked at him. She said he looked at him like he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

That was the only time it hurt, and even then, it was just an ache, not really  _ pain _ in any real sense of the word. Just an aching dazed buzz, numb almost, like the pit-patter of water on your back in the shower, drilling against your skin for so long that the flesh didn’t really feel anything clearly anymore but the temperature. Cold rain on your back for so so long that you could go under the knife and only feel twinges on your numb flesh.  

Ichigo didn’t bear any resentment whatsoever, truly.

He’d realized that loving Renji had been like trying to put a collar on a wild animal. You could feed it and pet it, and you felt like it was yours while it was walking through your home, you felt like it loved you, you could even put a collar on it – but you never really owned it. It could leave at any time and run back to the jungle where a collar didn’t mean shit. And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

The abrupt bittersweet ending didn’t make what they’d had fake and worthless, it didn’t make the red lotus any less true or beautiful while it had been in bloom. Autumn had simply arrived. Everything withered and faded, even that rare and exquisite thing that the flower had represented. It only made it that much more precious. 

Ichigo missed Renji’s face. He missed his lame jokes. He missed him being there. They hadn’t seen each other again since then, they hadn’t texted. Ichigo was trying not to miss him too much. He tried not to think about him. Sometimes he'd even forget about him for almost a whole day at a time.  
  


   Campus was mostly empty by then, everyone having left for winter vacation. Going between the dorm and the car, Ichigo was making a final trip, packing up to go home. He’d already said goodbye to Grimmjow the previous day. He’d agreed to split an apartment with him next semester – he’d continued being strangely nice to him for the past weeks. Well, not nice exactly, he just hadn’t been a jerk, hasn't kicked him while he's down. He’d taken him for a bunch of joyrides in his baby-blue convertible for what came down to no other reason than to chill together, although Grimmjow always had an excuse or errand of some sort. 

When he gathered up the last of his stuff and closed up their vacant dorm, he walked out to the car with just his backpack and a sack lunch. At the sudden call of his name, he looked up, and was surprised to see Renji in the distance with his hand raised. At having seen him, Renji jogged over to him.  
  


“Ichigo! Hey!” he said rather breathlessly, coming up to him with a hesitant smile.  


“Uh, hey,” Ichigo replied with some uncertainty, popping the trunk to his car and beginning to arrange his last boxes.  

“... Uh, how’s it goin’?” Renji began.   
  
“Packing,” he said succinctly. “Actually just about to, uh, go.”

“Oh yeah, you’re headin’ home, right?” Renji noted.

“Yeah.”

“Cool, cool.” Renji swayed with his hands in his pockets. Ichigo pressed his lips together, watching him with a weird look on his face. This was sort of awkward. Ichigo didn't really know why he was here, or what to say to him.

“You’re transferring, right?”

“Yeah,” Renji straightened up with a grin, “Just for my last few credits.” He was quiet for a second or two, as if waiting for Ichigo to say something, but Ichigo was mellow and silent in the face of his friendliness. “You?” he prompted.

“Ah, well I got that internship, so… Gonna' finish out the school year and then do that.”

“Right.”

“...”

For the first time in ages, it was silent between them. It felt stilted and polite and Ichigo didn’t know what to do with this  _ thing _ _,_ this thing that’s between them and keeping them from reaching one another.

He knew it had been there before, before he’d known Renji, but he didn’t know how to cope with it now that he’d once been on the other side, the _inside_. Looking through a pane of glass, everything looked eerily similar, but just not perfect. Something was altered, although one could never tell just what it was.

Renji might’ve been having a similar problem, because his usual friendly demeanor was beginning to falter. He didn’t seem to know what to say. He didn’t seem to know how to deal with Ichigo either. Who knew how many other people had become friends after sex for Renji - that must be what he was trying to do now, and yet, it wasn’t working. It had to be confusing to him, but Ichigo didn’t think he could be Renji’s friend after that, he didn’t think he could ever separate those feelings. He didn't know how to look at him and not see the man he'd kissed, the man he'd made love with. 

It was weird, how a person could be gone, but the heart still wouldn't accept it, wouldn't let them go anyways - wouldn't stop loving them. That must be what heartbreak is: wanting back something that you can't have. 

Renji seemed to be waiting again, somewhat apprehensively now, and Ichigo was just wondering why he was so quiet yet somehow without that serious look to him for once, instead almost curious and confused. 

He thinks he knows why Renji came here. One last apology; recompense. He’d come to shake Ichigo’s hand, so to say. They’d had a good run, and it was time to go their separate ways, to part amicably as friends.  
  


Ichigo broke the silence. “Look, I, uh… Good luck!” He held out a hand for a handshake and said a formal goodbye, the kind you only gave when you knew you wouldn’t be seeing each other for a long time, maybe never again.  
  


That’s when Renji left the ‘doing the right thing’ script that Ichigo had been trying to follow, and everything went off the rails.  
  


Renji’s eyes suddenly darkened and instead of grabbing Ichigo’s hand, he grabbed his collar. Having expected nothing of the sort, Ichigo just blinked. “Wh’-”  
  


Renji grabbed him and slammed him around, putting a hand in his hair and fisting it, holding his head against his car. Ichigo dropped his backpack and his soda clanked and rolled away on the pavement.

Shit, was he getting mugged? What the fuck was he doing?!

In that moment, Ichigo tried to struggle, but Renji was on him, having taken advantage of his moment of surprise and twisted his arm back. He was monstrously strong, holding him roughly, and Ichigo couldn’t get much leverage. 

“Get off!” Ichigo shouted, “What the fuck are you doing?! Get offa’ me!” He thrashed, but Renji just twisted his arm further, painfully. 

Heart racing with adrenaline, Ichigo tried to turn around so his shouting could take full effect, but Renji barked at him, “Don’t look at me!”

Ichigo didn’t know why, but he went limp at that, like a wild rabbit frozen under a hunter’s hand. A moment later, it registered that Renji had done this before, and that this was what he did when he was trying to talk to him, but ow, it was hard to be calm, goddamn that fucking hurt!

“What the fuck, Renji, that hurts!” he shouted, but stood still. 

“Don’t fucking look at me, if you look at me, I’ll  _ fucking _ kill you,” Renji growled, shoving his head further against the car as he said it, “Got it?”

“Okay, okay!” Ichigo yelled back as his face was ground into the window. 

“It’s personal…” Renji eased his grip minutely, but didn’t let go. “You have to forget every word I say from this moment.”

“Fat chance,” Ichigo mumbled, although it probably wasn’t smart of him to do so with Renji acting so unpredictably.

“...” He couldn’t see his expression from the way their bodies were twisted apart. Renji’s whole body was locked against his, his boots pressing Ichigo’s legs apart and his torso and hips pushing his smaller frame against the car. Ichigo thought if he really needed to he could get free, but he might dislocate his shoulders doing so. 

He knows what Renji's doing - he's trying to open up to him, like he once did in the woods, but now that he's outside again, now that he's been pushed out, Renji can't be vulnerable like that, can't open himself up, can't look him in the face, not without whatever  _this_ is.    Just because Ichigo gets it doesn't mean he appreciates being manhandled.  

“You gonna’ say somethin’, or…?” Ichigo prompted when Renji just continued the body-lock silently.

“Fine!” Renji barked, then huffing frustratedly. After a few moments, he hedged, “How have you… been?”

Ichigo stared incredulously into his car, face squashed. “... Um, fine?”

“I mean, after…”

“Oh,” Ichigo mumbled. “Okay, I guess.”

“Well, I’m not,” Renji bit back, and Ichigo didn’t register it immediately until he added, “Okay, I mean."   
  
“Oh.”

    Renji still had feelings for him, still missed him, still hurt too, the same way he did?

 

“Renji-” he tried, but Renji talked over him.

“Just shut up and listen for a sec’,” Renji steamrolled, sighing roughly. He tried to start over, his voice tired, but less angry. “I dunno’ what I woulda’ done if you hadn’t been there during that shit.”

Ah, Ichigo got it now. This was just an apology letter. This was obligation. Voice going flat, Ichigo brushed off, “Hisagi did more than me.”

“I’m trying to thank you!” Renji growled, “You did a lot! You’re the one who got my head together. I was gonna’ let him ruin me, and you snapped me out of it!”

“... You’re welcome?” Ichigo tried to shrug, but he couldn’t with his arms wrenched back. What did he say here?

“I told you to shut up!” Renji gripped his hair tighter, fuck, ow!

“Holy shit, Renji, ease back!” Ichigo yelled, completely unamused.

“Look… I gotta’ tell you,” Renji said seriously, his voice going low as he paused for a long time. 

Ichigo had to hold very still to hear him, even the wind occasionally drowning him out. “When I lost Rukia… I’ve never felt pain like that before,” he confessed. “It was like there was nothing. Just…  _ nothing, _ dig?”

Nothing that would make him feel better, nothing left in his life that could make him happy, nothing left inside him – yeah, Ichigo got how it was to lose someone like that. 

“I dig,” he said shortly, as understanding as he could be when he was in a body-lock and still kind of ticked about it. “Point?”

Renji tightened his fist in his hair, which made him hiss and shut up.

“You’re making this harder, just  _ shut up.” _

“Okay!” 

“I’ve known a lotta’ people since I lost her,” Renji went on. “I’m happy with that. I care about every one of my buds. Really. I wouldn’t trade the people I’ve met because of losing her. I wouldn't change it back now that it's happened."  
  


He was quiet for a second, his voice going raw, and his body seeming to cave against Ichigo’s back. “But… there’s this… pit,” he rasped.  
  


Ichigo knew where this was going. There was this empty place in Renji that made him feel like he didn’t deserve to live if he wasn’t helping someone or proving that he wasn’t a waste of space. Ichigo knew how it felt to have that sunshine ripped from your life and feeling like nothing could ever replace that, could fill that hole up perfectly. He knew, oh god, he knew that void.

If Ichigo could stand at the edge of that pit and see Renji down there, he’d let it rain, he’d let his heart rain and rain until the pit filled up to the brim and Renji floated up to the top and crawled out. If he could do that, he would.

“I really thought I’d never find happiness again until I got her back,” Renji got out, “But nothing seemed good enough, I never felt good enough and I couldn’t seem to breach that distance. We’ve been apart for so long, Ichigo, I’d almost given up hope. But that day…”

Ichigo listened in silence, breathing as easily as he could with his torso crushed under Renji’s pressing arm. 

“Ichigo, it was like magic,” Renji tried to explain. “It’s like all of that time when we couldn’t even look at each other never even happened. I don’t know what it is that you did, but you made both of us feel like we could look at each other again. We’re starting to… y’know, talk and spend time together like we used to. You have no idea how much that means.”

Ichigo could see Renji in the reflection on the window now, and his eyes were wide and wild and screaming ‘ _ you, you, you.’ _

“I was jealous of you for a long time, you know, being her new best friend,” Renji’s voice broke into a whisper, “but then you bring her back to me.” Ichigo closed his eyes, his forehead cool against the glass. “And all that pain, it’s like those ten years were just my imagination.”

It was quiet for a time but for the rustling of the trees on the border of the student lot. “But they weren’t,” Ichigo eventually said. 

Renji didn’t clobber him that time, instead murmuring back, “Yeah… they weren’t. It was a long long time.” Ichigo sighed, the pain coming through in his silence. 

“What I was trying to say before is, ever since I’d lost her… there’d been nothing,” he said, clarifying, “nobody.”   
  


     Very quietly, Renji confessed, “I’ve been really lonely.”  
  


Which was a surprise, considering he was always with people, but maybe that was just a coping mechanism, making friends with everyone to try to fill that hole. 

“I could go through life and meet people, but I missed her so bad,” Renji said, “I’d miss her so much I’d just want to see her face and hear her voice, but if I saw her around, I couldn’t go to her, I couldn’t talk to her, and it would just bring it all back.” Ichigo imagined it as Renji continued, voice subdued by pain. 

“We’d pretend like we were strangers, like we didn’t even recognize each other passing in the hall. I didn’t think things would ever change,” he said. “It was hard to remember how it was before. It was like it had always been that way. I just hurt, all the time.”

Ichigo let his hands close into fists. “... And then,” Renji muttered, “Then when I met you, it stopped.” They just stood there for a second in the wind, Ichigo still with surprise.

 

    “. . . It just stopped,” Renji whispered. “... Do you know how that feels?”

 

It stopped feeling like a body lock and more like a hug. He’d let go of Ichigo’s hair, but was still keeping him pinned to the car. Ichigo tried to see Renji’s reflection in the window, but the sky was overcast now and his face was shadowed.

   “Yeah,” he said.

“I dunno’,” Renji mumbled, “It’s not like you replaced her, but you felt like her, a little bit. It felt like…” he swallowed, “like you understood me like she did, like you saw me. I’d do dumb shit and you’d gimme' crap, but you’d still like me anyway just like she did. I didn’t have to be anyone.” His forehead brushed between Ichigo’s shoulder blades then like on their first night together when Renji had held him down and told him not to look at him when he talked, the first time he'd tentatively shown him a little of his fragile tender inside - like an abused animal slowly creeping in, scared, but wanting to be pet.   
  


“And it… that pain just stopped,” he explained. “And once we got closer, I thought… I thought I would’ve liked to stay like that. That you could be that person.”

    “...” Ichigo didn’t know what to say.   
  


“Ichigo, I’m not very brave,” Renji rasped, and was quiet for a long time. “I dunno’. I just…” His voice grew jerky and hesitant then, “I dunno’ why I do half the things I do. I dunno’ why I wreck things for myself over and over. I don’t know why I do these things…”

Ichigo remained silent still, waiting for him to go on, and Renji eventually tentatively prodded, “Will you say something?”

He let his head thud against the car, closing his eyes, unable to help being exasperated. “This entire time you’ve told me to shut up and now you want me to talk? What do you want me to say?” he wondered tiredly. “That you’re stupid for getting scared? That shit’s a natural survival instinct.”

Renji’s grip grew tight on his wrists, not in anger this time, somehow seeming involuntary. 

“You see a threat, you run, you live,” Ichigo dismissed, “What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? I’m not mad, Renji, there’s nothing to forgive. You did what you had to do.”

“No, I didn’t,” Renji rasped urgently, “Not really. You were… I wanted… Ichigo, I wish...”  
  


   “Yeah,” Ichigo replied, because he understood, really he did.   
  


“I never meant to hurt you,” he insisted, his voice wrenching with guilt as he tried to explain. “I never planned for the run and go.”

“I know. Renji, I know.”  


“... You just got in too deep. Inside a' me, I mean,” Renji croaked, “And yeah. I got scared. The thought of having you ripped out of my life and that pit coming back double-strong scared me.” Letting out a gusty sigh to try and ease the emotion in his voice, he went on, “And then I fucked up so bad, and I thought for sure it was over. But you stuck around.” He cleared his throat. “You helped me.”

  “...” 

“And then I ran,” Renji growled at himself. “I dunno’ what I was doing, I got exactly what I wanted, you  _ stayed _ _,_   but... you were just so close to me,” he tried to explain. “I dunno’, maybe I thought I’d end it then before I could fuck up again. Maybe I thought I’d play it safe and get out clean early so I could come away okay. But like I said, I’m not.”

“...” Ichigo listened with a frown, staring off at the distant trees, Renji’s voice behind him. He could barely comprehend what Renji was saying, what it meant.

“‘Cause it’s already too late,” Renji got out, his voice hesitant and almost shy. “There ain’t no playin’ it safe. There’s no takebacks.” He cleared his throat again and said, “It’s a natural fact of life that by caring, you give someone the power to hurt you. It’s just… you became that person, and it scared me, knowin’ that losing you could hurt me as bad as losing Rukia hurt. An’ I got spooked,” he rambled, “An’ I did what I always do when I get scared, I say fuck it and get outta’ there.” _  
_

He’d let him go by that point but Ichigo still didn’t turn around, giving Renji the privacy he needed to be able to bare his soul. He’d straightened up and braced his hands on the car, and Renji had stepped back from him a few paces.

This was all well and good, and he’s glad Renji was apologizing or whatever he was doing, but it was too late to do anything about it now, and Ichigo wanted him to know that he wasn’t upset, that he shouldn’t feel obligated to make things right or say sorry.  
  


    “Renji,” he tried, but Renji cut him off.  
  


“Lemme’ finish,” he said, so earnestly that Ichigo let him. “After I had some time to think about it, I realized that I don’t regret anything Rukia and I said or did,” he said slowly, “and if I could do it over again, if I had the choice to never meet her, just so I wouldn’t have to live with that pain when we drifted apart… I would still do the same things just for how great I felt when we’d been together that short time.”

Ichigo felt the same. He got what Renji meant; he wouldn’t take back knowing Renji no matter how unfair it felt that it had been so short. 

“She an’ I talked after you left, you know… an’ she knew what I was doing, of course she did,” Renji huffed a laugh at himself. “ _ I _ didnt even know, but she did. She’s always known me like that. She told me that if I let you get away on account a' cowardice, it’ll be the dumbest mistake I’ve ever made and I'll regret it my whole life long…” Renji seemed to scuff his toe from the sounds of it. “And she’s right. She always is.”

He cleared his throat. “And you,” he muttered. “You told me once about shit that’ll haunt me for the rest of my days, and you’re right.” 

Coming to the point, he said, “Ichigo, I’ve already done so much shit I regret in my life, I’ve made bad decisions, but being with you wasn’t one of them. I'm sorry I ran away. I don't know why I did, but I've stopped running now.”  
  


Ichigo didn’t reply, continuing to listen in silence to see how far Renji would go.   
  


“... I dunno’ why it’s over, or what I thought I-” Renji’s words sped up, breathless. “I dunno’ what I was tryin’a’ do, but I can’t do it,” he insisted, “I can’t forget about you. I don't want to go our separate ways like nothing ever happened. I don't want to go back, I never want you to be just a face in the crowd to me ever again.”

Ichigo turned then, finally, and Renji was staring right at him. He was red all over: eyes, ears, nose, forehead, cheeks, hair. His nose was running in the cold air, he had no hat or coat and was glowing like a frostbitten idiot.    
  


    “Renji,” Ichigo said slowly in dazed wonder, “... your face is red.”

“Shut it, that’s you,” Renji replied, looking at his feet. “... I’m sorry for… for,” He waved a hand to try to illustrate his point.  
  


“It’s nothing,” Ichigo heard himself say, still staring at Renji’s blush.   
  


They were quiet for a while, with all that out in the open, neither of them knew what to say next. Renji looked at him with a certain caution, seeming not to want to get too close to him now, even though he’d grabbed him viciously earlier. Now that he'd said all that, he looked nervous, his eyes big and hesitant.  


“So what now?” Ichigo tentatively hedged at last. Renji sighed, looking down for a moment like he was gathering his courage.  


“Ichigo, I’ll be straight with you,” he said seriously, “I dunno’ what I would’ve done if I hadn’t had you there throughout this whole thing and I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do if you’re not there the next time I fuck up.” Trying to joke, he quirked a smile. “I do it a lot.”

   Ichigo couldn’t smile back, every word ringing in his brain.

“I know I’m the one who ended it, but I was bein’ really dumb. I ain’t done right by you,” Renji acknowledged, “I don’t know if I can repair that, or if I can make up for bailing, but… this whole thing made me realize…”

Renji looked up into his face, his expression soft but burning with sincerity. “I’m really stuck on you, kid,” he said, heartfelt.

“But that's not bad - I don’t care," he breathed, "I don't. I don’t wanna’ be unstuck.” Ichigo’s mouth went dry, his feet stuck in place. “Any risk is a good trade for how awesome I feel with I’m with you,” Renji told him, eyebrows scrunching. “For… for the person I became after I met you.”  
  


When Ichigo still said nothing, he cleared his throat and eased back a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “So… I mean,” he tried to grin, “if you still feel like taking a chance on a mutt like me… maybe you can forgive me and take my ass back.”  


Shifting from side to side, he muttered with a smile, “C’mon, don’t make me put my forehead to the ground.”  
  


Ichigo snorted, and gave this lopsided smile, shaking his head with a sigh. Renji’s grin began to fade, his expression growing openly anxious as the seconds passed.

“I never know what’s going on in that red head,” Ichigo huffed. 

Frustrated and put-upon, Renji rasped, “I’ve thought about how to say this to you for days now.” Scrunching his face up, he threw his hands up against his head. “I made a written draft! I put aside my pride! It’s cost me a lot to say these things, so please respond,” he practically shouted. 

“C’mon, don’t make me beg,” he said desperately, eyes wild, “For god’s sake, don’t make me say it again. I never want to sound that shitty-sentimental again for the rest of my life! Say something, I'm holding my heart out to you!”

 

    A red flower, extended for him to take.

 

Ichigo just looked at him wordlessly, and Renji heaved for breath, his expression beginning to drop towards panic.

“Ichigo?”  
  


He could hear those things like it was the first day.                ‘ _ Ichigo, hey!       _

 

_ Isn’t there anyone special? You never hope something crazy will happen and make your life a thousand times better?’  _

_                 I’m crazy for you, Ichigo.         I’m crazy! I feel crazy!  _

 

_ Thanks for fixing me up. _

_                                                         I just swear. _

 

_                             Aw, you drive me wild.’ _

 

That feeling they’d shared, they were the same inside, the dark scared parts that they’d shown each other without shame, Ichigo had never felt like that before.

 

_ ‘Can’t let this slip through my fingers.  _

_                        If you’re insecure, I know how you feel.  _

__

_       I don’t know what to do I’m so happy.        Feels fuckin’ beautiful. _

  
  
  
  


_                                                                              Oh, this?  This is for you.  _

  
  


_                                              Do you know how that feels?...’ _

  
  
  


“Ichigo?” Renji prompted again, visibly sick by his silence. 

 

It was only the early evening, but the sun was already setting, and the chilled wind whipped up dead leaves around them, ruffling their hair and numbing Ichigo’s ears.

“You’re a whole lotta’ crazy,” he finally said with an amiable smile. “This semester’s been wild. I haven’t had fun like that in ages.” Hope went into Renji’s expression for a moment.

“But you’re right,” Ichigo agreed grimly, “It’s a scary thing giving someone that power. And I haven’t hurt like that in ages either.”

   Crestfallen, Renji tried, “I-”

“For all the shit you’ve put me through and however annoying you are, when I’m with you I feel pretty awesome too, and I think you’re right about it being a good trade.”

Renji grit his teeth and adjusted his jaw, then looked away and swiped subtly at his eye, shifting around. Ichigo rolled his eyes and opened his driver’s side door, getting in and shutting it behind him.

Standing outside awkwardly, Renji put his hands in his pockets and hesitantly took a few steps closer. Ichigo looked out the window incredulously. “The fuck are you doing?” he wondered, rolling the window down.  
  


Tentatively, Renji met his eyes, raw and calling out to him -  _'Don't walk away. I came back, don't turn me away.'_  
  


Ichigo let the corner of his mouth lift. “Get in, loser,” he said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”  
  


Renji stared for a moment, and Ichigo rolled the window back, starting the car. After some time, Renji crossed over and got in on the passenger's side, and Ichigo backed out of the parking spot and drove off.

He put his open hand on the console and Renji took it firmly, squeezing it hard. He clasped Ichigo’s hand on top of his thigh and smiled softly, which so much relief that he looked like he could float away on the wind.   
  


Ichigo couldn’t stop a smile. The actual flower had wilted ages ago, but he’d been a fool to think that meant it had gone away forever.  
  
  
  


       Just like that feeling, lotus were perennials, and bloom again and again.  
  


. . .  
  


_  I don’t feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now. You’re here, that’s all I know, and rain will make the flowers grow. _


	26. Epilogue

   Ichigo woke with a yawn and a coil of his back, pushing the blankets and pillows out of the way with his arms and feet as he stretched. Shoving Renji’s arm off his middle, he sat up on the edge of the mattress and yawned again, wiping his eye and smacking his lips.

He got up and shuffled to the kitchen for a glass of milk. Hisagi was already awake and working away at the table on his laptop, diligently. “Morning,” they mumbled to each other, Ichigo sleepy, Hisagi distracted.

After washing his face and brushing his teeth and hair, Ichigo felt much more alert, and started making some breakfast. Today was an important day. Renji was meeting his family for dinner tonight.

This had started a week back when Renji, out of the blue, told Ichigo he had to meet his parents. Ichigo had been spending the night, and they’d been in bed together at the time, reading and discussing the news, and he’d suddenly broached the subject.

“I thought you were an orphan,” Ichigo had said, sitting up in bed with his pillow behind him. He marked his place and glanced over his glasses.

Renji, who’d been lying on his stomach next to him, his chin and arms on his pillow as he played on his phone, explained with some hilarity, “They adopted me when I was twenty.” Ichigo had snorted.

“I got fucked up in a gang-beating once and they took care of me,” Renji had told him.

So it had turned out Renji’s ‘dad’ was  _the_ Ikkaku Madarame, the kendo star, and they worked together at the same moving company, along with Renji’s other parent, Yumichika. He’d gone with Renji and had dinner at their flat and met the two of them, vaguely recognizing them from some photos of an aquarium Renji had shown him last year.

Anyways, the point was, even though he wasn’t upset for the way Renji had once blown up at him for suggesting he meet his own family, after that, Ichigo had always been hesitant to suggest it again, and kept comments about his sisters and dad to a minimum. But after Renji had dragged him out and shown him off with clear pride to his adoptive parents and coworkers and his many, _many_ different friends, Ichigo had figured it was okay.

Another night later on in Renji’s bedroom, changing clothes after work, Ichigo had mentioned somewhat casually, “I’m going home this weekend,” figuring he’d let Renji make of that what he would, and if he didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t bring it up again for another little while.

“Oh yeah?” Renji had replied, putting on an old band t-shirt and sweats, tying his hair in a messy topknot. “Can I come along?” His eyes brightened up then, and his face stretched in a smile. “I can meet your parents.”

“You wanna’ meet my family?” Ichigo repeated back, warm inside, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Renji had said, moving towards him. “I wanna’ take that step,” he’d murmured, kissing him on the lips. “Mmh.”

“Okay,” Ichigo agreed, pleased. “Sure.”

Tossing onto the end of the bed, Renji had stretched his arms behind his head. Ichigo smiled; Renji looked excited. He was too, a little, actually. “What are they like?” Renji had asked.

“I’ve got twin younger sisters and a stupid dad.”

Renji’s eyes had absolutely sparkled, and he’d marveled, “Little sisters,” as if they were already his very own and he already loved them.

“Not so little anymore,” Ichigo’d laughed.

“Do you think they’ll all like me?” Renji’d pressed hopefully.

Ichigo had shrugged noncommittally. “No reason they wouldn’t.”  


    Later, while he and Hisagi were making dinner and Renji was on an egg-run, he’d made a call home. “Hey, Karin,” he’d greeted. “Listen, I’m stopping by with my boyfriend this weekend, so make sure dad knows we’re coming.”

He’d never formally come out or discussed his boyfriend much – I mean, they know he _has_ one, because he knew he’d mentioned Renji in passing plenty of times, but he’d never brought him home or introduced them or anything, so by all accounts, Karin was surprisingly chill with the news.

“He eats a lot,” he’d warned, “You’d better tell Yuzu too so she can get enough to feed him… Yeah, he’ll stay with me, whichever room’s free... Thanks… Love you, bye.”

Not an hour later, just as they’d gotten done eating and Hisagi and Renji had dispersed to watch their soccer game, Ichigo had gotten an excited call from Yuzu to ask what she should cook that his boyfriend will like, and if Ichigo had worried at all how his family would react, he knew then that everything was going to be fine.

Renji was still jubilant over it, but would likely wake up in a panic shortly, as he’d missed his planned alarm. Ichigo had hit the snooze and hadn’t woken him, because he was a little jerk like that.

Eventually, after standing at the counter and making bacon pancakes in silence while Hisagi worked at the table with his own breakfast, Ichigo looked up as Renji walked out into the kitchen. Ichigo groaned, exasperated.  


    “Oh for god’s sake, Renji, put something on!”  


Renji put his hair up in a sloppy pony and shot back, “I’ll walk around how I want in my own goddamn house,” trying to get closer to the mini grill Ichigo stood at and the plate of steaming pancakes that had already been finished.

“You’re not getting fed while your dick’s out,” Ichigo said flatly, grimacing at him and sliding the plate out of reach.

Renji looked down at himself, no shame whatsoever, shoulders dropping in momentary confusion. “Everyone in the house has seen it, I dunno’ what your problem is.”

Hisagi just continued eating his cornflakes mildly, giving Renji a onceover before looking back to the newspaper and his laptop.

 _“Get!”_ Ichigo boomed, pointing to the hallway, and Renji scowled, but stomped back down the hall. Ichigo watched his tattooed butt move as he left.

Hisagi didn’t comment on the exchange, as it was nothing new. They’ve all gotten quite used to each other. At least he and Hisagi haven’t seen each other naked yet, which is something they don’t talk about.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to mind that Ichigo was over all the time, or at least if he did, he didn't complain about it in front of Ichigo.

He made Renji a plate, smothering it with powdered sugar just like he liked it and putting on the humongous but exact amount of syrup he always used. Still, he set out the bottle next to his plate.

Ichigo bounced between his place and Renji’s quite a bit, and although Renji occasionally came over, he didn’t really spend the night often, because he and Grimmjow still had trouble occupying the same space, since they both were sort of needy for his attention and competed for it rather aggressively.

The time had gone fast, now that he thought about it. They’ve spent Christmas together with Rukia and a bunch of friends, and by now it was springtime, almost summer again.

Since he and Renji have been together, Ichigo had gotten well acquainted with maybe fifty something of Renji’s friends and five of his close ones, had gone through him fostering about three stray dogs, and has been on approximately seventy-five dates. Things have gone just as they had before they'd split up, except perhaps, Renji was a little more attached to him. 

When Renji wandered back out in a t-shirt and underwear, he asked, “Syrup? I like them with syrup.”

“Yep, I put some on yours.”

 _“I_ wanted to,” Renji said in disappointment.

“I left it out.”

Perking up, Renji sat down across from Hisagi and after putting on a little more syrup just to be contrary even though the plate was perfect, he dug in, stuffing his face full as always. “Mmm. You’re the best, Ichi-ban,” he said with a smile, and Ichigo smiled back a little.

“I’m trying to eat here,” Hisagi complained half-heartedly, at which Renji just gloated that he was probably jealous that he didn’t have _his_ boyfriend over to cook pancakes for him. "Maybe I am, so what!"

  
   After they got dressed and ready and packed their weekend bags into the car, they began the drive out to Ichigo’s parents’ house. Renji was excited - nervous, but excited.

Ichigo smiled as they pulled up to the curb, rolling the windows down so he could better see his home and the way the sun shone on it. Renji put his sunglasses up on his forehead, staring out with his mouth open a little. “Whoaaa…”

“It’s not really that big, it’s just ‘cause my dad runs his practice out of here.”

“It’s really a clinic?” Renji wondered, still staring all sparkly-eyed. Ichigo downplayed it a bit.

“Yeah, but it’s small, not for serious emergencies.”

Renji made a noise of acknowledgement and got out after Ichigo did, walking after him up the drive to the front door. Ichigo felt weird knocking on his own door and waiting for someone to answer, but he felt it was better with Renji here that they don’t just walk in.

Somehow he didn’t expect it when the door snapped open and he immediately got whacked in the face. His reflexes kicked in, and he blocked the second hit, but didn’t punch back or jump out of the way, because his dad was getting too old to eat it in the yard every time Ichigo didn’t take the blow.  
  
Ichigo has warned Renji about his dad a little. He’d mentioned the thing with the giant poster and the craziness, but he’d neglected to mention the physical attacks. That surprise ambush probably having been the last thing he’d expected, Renji was startled enough to flinch back, seeming to not know for a moment whether it was okay to clobber Ichigo’s dad to save Ichigo from getting beaten up.  


“You shitty old man!” Ichigo hollered, “When are you gonna’ quit this shit?!”

“My boy is home!”  


“Ugggh,” Ichigo groaned, but let his dad hug him. Renji cleared his throat and seemed to defrizz, like a cat recovering from getting spooked.

“Yuzu here?” he asked as they separated, meaning to ask about their room and then bring their stuff in.

“She’s inside,” Isshin said, shooting an eye to Renji, who was silently waiting for Ichigo to cue him in.

“Oh yeah,” Ichigo muttered. Really, he was still a bit uncertain about how his dad would react. He didn’t think he’d behave badly exactly, he was never straight out _rude,_ but his dad had little ways of showing people if he didn’t like them. Honestly, he got downright scary.

“Dad, this is Renji.”

“Hello, Kurosaki-san,” Renji greeted formally, bowing stiffly at the waist and then flashing his best smile. “I’m glad to meet you. I hope we’ll get along.” He held out his hand, and Ichigo glanced between them when his dad didn’t take it right away, looking Renji up and down. Right, the tattoos and the hair…       C’mon, dad.

“Isshin,” his dad said after a beat, shaking Renji’s hand, at which Renji beamed. “C’mon in, boys.”

“Great, yeah,” Ichigo gusted a sigh, shouldering past his dad and jogging upstairs, sticking his head down the hall. “Yuzu?” he called, but got no answer. He checked a couple rooms, and found Karin’s old room all cleaned up with two futons laid out, quite close together, and stacks of fresh sheets.

Going back down, he was just in time to see his dad sizing Renji up and mentioning something about how he’d thought his son had moved past the rebellious phase. “God damnit, dad!” Ichigo hollered.

“You haven’t been to jail, have you?”

“Well, not exactly…” Renji shifted uncertainly, and Ichigo groaned.  
  
“Dad, get away from him, you’re gonna’ scare him off,” Karin called from the other room. Ichigo threw a hand up towards her voice.

 _“Thank_ you.” Turning to Renji, he asked, “Now could you please go get our stuff from the car?”

“Yeah, both bags?”

“Yeah.” Ichigo put his hands on his hips and glared at his dad as Renji went outside. “Has he been to jail, Dad, are you serious?”

“I remember you spending the night in the joint once in high school, young man.”

“That’s only ‘cause those jerks tried to _kill_ Chad, and you know it!” Ichigo yelled.

“There, you see, I’m just checking which of you is the better son,” his dad said, and  _winked,_  and Ichigo, having gone speechless, choked on his retort, scowled, and stormed out of the room. Damnit.

Renji wandered back in with their stuff. “Here, you want me to put this away?”

“No, I got it,” Ichigo muttered, shouldering the bags and making for the stairs. Renji followed him to the bottom.

“You’re not upset, are you?” Renji wondered with a slight frown, and Ichigo gave a long sigh. He really wasn’t.

“No.” He looked up and let Renji give him a quick kiss before he bounded up the steps and dropped their stuff off, taking out their pajamas and tossing them out.

Renji dutifully waited at the bottom for him and then took a long sniff. Ichigo was getting a bit hungry too. “Hmmm,” Renji sighed, obviously able to smell Yuzu’s cooking.

“Ichi-nii!” Yuzu called, presumably from the kitchen, “I missed you!”

Ichigo’s usual scowl melted a bit and he tossed his head over his shoulder to get Renji to follow. He’d expected Renji to love his sisters all along, but after Yuzu greeted them as Ichi-nii and Nii-san and took her roasted eggplant out of the oven, Ichigo was surprised Renji didn’t die and go to heaven right there.

Dinner went great – Renji ate a ton as expected and effusively praised Yuzu’s cooking, which made her turn pink. He and Karin got along well too, which made sense, considering Karin and Ichigo had always been closer in personality.

Afterwards, they hung out in the living room as a family. Renji and Yuzu played go-fish on the sofa, and Ichigo and Karin sat on the floor and played his old Atari while he rested his head on Renji’s leg. His dad didn’t try to embarrass him any more, and asked normal questions about work and school, how had they met, how long have they been seeing each other, and he'd even called Renji ‘son’ once or twice more, which made Ichigo flush in that weird mix of angry and pleased, while Renji just seemed to glow and eat it right up.

Once it got late enough to go to bed, his dad, having to get a final rip in, said, “Keep in mind, the walls are thin, kids,” as they went upstairs. Ichigo flipped him off, and Renji just laughed.

Some of Karin’s stuff was still in her room even though she’d moved out, but she’d made a nice space for them and was spending the weekend with Yuzu, who was in Ichigo’s old room. Ichigo knew he was an adult and everything and shouldn’t have expected not to be allowed to sleep in the same room as his boyfriend, but it still seemed a bit of a surprise when he saw the rolled-out futons again and they were alone together in his childhood home.

Changing and chatting as easily as they did in Renji’s apartment, they scootched the futons the rest of the way together and got under the covers in the dark, both breathing a relieved sigh at having gotten through the day without serious incident.

They glanced over to each other at the same time, and when Renji began smiling, it infectiously spread to Ichigo, who opened his arms just in time for Renji to roll on top of him and grab him and throw him around. Ichigo tried to keep the laughing to a minimum, keeping his mouth closed, but snorting and snickering as he and Renji tussled under the blankets, messing them up.

At last settling down, Renji whispered in his ear in the dark of the night, “Hey.” He kissed him on the lips soundly and then leaned back down to his ear. “Ichigo,” he whispered with a playful smile in his voice.

“What?” he hissed back, smiling.

Renji put his mouth right against the shell of his ear and barely breathed, “I love you,” as if he was handing him this unimaginably mysterious and precious thing. Renji held it in his hands and showed it to Ichigo, gently transferred into his cupped palms.

“I do, I really love you.”

And Ichigo watched as this dark seed opened up and revealed the glowing red insides, its petals unfurled and lighting up his face in the darkness with its gleam. He peeked inside with wonder and gazed at the beautiful delicate flower and its many petals, glittering like they were cut from living ruby. Then he closed it up and held it to his chest. He was going to plant it inside and water it and protect it so it would grow and thrive.

Renji drew back at his silence, looking down into Ichigo’s face, seeming apprehensive for a moment, then began smiling suddenly. Ichigo didn’t catch on to why for a moment until he became aware of his own smile, which grew even larger with the realization.

He snagged an arm around Renji’s neck and pulled him down, and they kissed warmly for a long time. Then he replied against his lips, not bothering to whisper, but kept his voice down anyways. “Love you too.”

Renji separated them. “You do?” he whispered, “You really do?”

“Yeah, really,” Ichigo said, drawing him close, and Renji wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a hug. Ichigo settled their heads together, and then licked his ear – and not in a sexy way, either. Renji jolted away, dropping him.

“Ack!” He punched for Ichigo’s head, and he rolled to the side to avoid it, which just prompted Renji to dive for him. “Asshole!” he hissed, “Fucking ruining my moment! You can’t just let me _have_ this?! Huh?! _Can_ you, you little shit!”

He landed on top of Ichigo’s back with a thump. “Oof!” Ichigo wheezed. They struggled for a while, Renji hanging on around Ichigo’s waist and Ichigo wriggling like a fish and trying to crawl his way out from under his dead weight.

Renji eventually began laughing at his futile attempts to escape. “You are such a shrimp,” he teased, voice shaking with hilarity.

Ichigo thrashed and bucked Renji off. “I’m not a shrimp,” he said firmly, scowling.

“Yeah you are, I’m bigger than you.”

Ichigo glared at Renji’s stupid smug face, he hated that look. “That’s just ‘cause you’re a fucking fatass with your stupid ridiculous muscles.”

“Dumbass! That makes no sense!”

They wrestled more for some time, grappling against each other and insisting the other ‘take it back’ first. Eventually they were getting sweaty with exertion, breathing heavily and turned on, and Renji, lifting himself up for a second, pushed his disheveled hair out of his face and panted, “Y’know?” grinning widely, “You’re really sexy like this.”

“Holding you down?” Ichigo snarked, knocking him over and sitting on his stomach.

“Yeaaah,” Renji replied, biting his lower lip and doing that dumb thing with his eyebrows. Ichigo let out a large ‘pfft’ of laughter through puffed cheeks just in time for Renji to flip them again and and pin him with a hum of relish. He laughed as Renji nosed eagerly at his neck and began peeling his shirt off.

“Okay, I’m on top now, so you have to tell me the truth,” Renji said with mock-seriousness, which just made Ichigo snicker more. “Did I put on weight?” Ichigo didn’t mind his weight so much when he was letting it rest on his boner like that, but he didn’t have to say so.

Going along with it, Ichigo mock-apologized, “I didn’t mean what I said about your muscles.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me more,” Renji prompted, squirming in anticipation, his toes curling up as he huffed a few excited breaths.

Ichigo had gotten a lot better at the whole sexual experience and was much better able to play along with Renji’s games and thrill him right back. He could actually push his buttons a little now that he wasn’t _completely_ new to it all.

So he said, after some pretend-thought, “The cut of your shoulders is really sexy.”

“Say some more,” Renji urged again, like old times when Ichigo’d had nothing left to say and he’d eaten up every boring word he’d squeezed out of him. Even now with Ichigo’s amateur dirty-talk, he was clearly getting riled up.

“When you do those one-armed push-ups?”

“Yeah?” Ichigo tried not to smile when he could _see_ the hairs stand up on Renji’s neck.

“And when you stretch when you wake up…”

“Uh-huh…”

“And your goddamn chest,” Ichigo breathed, stopping. Renji blinked, urging him on.

“What?....” Scrunching his eyebrows, he demanded again. “C’mon, go on! What!”

“And the dimples in your ass,” Ichigo finished completely unsexily. “Gets me hot,” he said blandly.

Sweating, Renji heaved, hissing with exasperation, “You’re a menace.” Ichigo just snickered as Renji pinched his sides in punishment for getting him going.

“Aww,” Renji laughed back, “I can’t resist that smile, Ichiban.”

“Oh yeah?” Ichigo challenged breathlessly as Renji hugged him aggressively. “Come down here and prove I’m your number one.”

  
    Renji leaned down to kiss him, and then they both blinked in surprise at a sudden thump against their backs.  


“Quiet up there, kids!” came a muffled call, and a broom jabbed the ceiling again from the floor below.

 _“Damnit, Dad!_ ” Ichigo scrambled up and flung the door open, storming downstairs, fuming to the sound of Renji cackling behind him.

. . .  


_I’m feeling better ever since you’ve known me. I was a lonely soul, but that’s the old me. A little wiser now from what you’ve shown me, yeah, I feel again, feel again..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's the end! thanks for reading! if you liked this one, check out my other works - I've done lots of renichi modern aus, as well as some canon pieces thrown in.


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